


The Haunted One-Shots: Reboot

by MyLya200



Category: The Haunted (comic series)
Genre: Armen (xikroniczz), Drake (RejectedShotgun), Gen, Grayson (Gamecrown96), Mia (Bunsfactory), The Haunted (Minecraft series), The Haunted (comic series) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 11:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 24,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19061827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyLya200/pseuds/MyLya200
Summary: Just a mix up of one-shots based on the series originally created by RejectedShotgun, The Haunted. Obviously I am not him, so The Haunted is not mine.





	1. The Meaning of Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, so it's been a while. A long while. The crappiest tons of a while. Over two years, to be exact, but... here goes nothing. Let's reboot this! Yeahh! I am totally not going to rewrite my long-ass description from FF, though I have a more heartwarming greeting on there if you wanna slide over and check it out :))  
> Let's Go On An Adventure!

The Meaning of Trust

He had trusted him. In the four years since they had come to this wasteland, and in the two since he had taken the egg, Grayson thought that he had learned not to trust anyone. The last time that he had trusted someone, he had been betrayed, and he swore to himself that he would never trust anyone ever again. 

Trust no one, the words echoed back at him like a taunting cry in his head. 

He should have listened. God, Grayson should have listened. He crumpled the note into his fist, his grip vice-like. He didn’t stop squeezing the paper until his fingernails tore through the paper and pressed into his palm. At once the former soldier let the note go, and he watched as it sailed into the dying embers of the fire. 

It was only then that he realized just how much trust he had put into Drake. He had trusted him with everything, his past, his secrets, everything. And this was what he had been left with. The blond shook with anger as he stared at the spot he had watched his friend lie down his sleeping bag. When he was relieved from watch, he had trusted Drake to stay awake through the night and protect them both if needed. Though he had kept his hand around his sword the entire night, he didn’t think that he would have to use it. 

It didn’t matter. He was alone, a dragon egg thief without an egg because Drake had taken it. Somewhere in his hardened heart, he knew that Drake meant no malice behind it. Whatever his reasons were, he wouldn’t use the dragon to serve his own purposes. He wasn’t like Ferox or the rest of the Empire. That didn’t stop the pang of betrayal that settled in Grayson’s heart, warping and turning it into lead as he took in what had happened. 

The egg had been his sole purpose for existence since he lost everything. The Empire took his home and his family away from him because Grayson had taken it, and now the egg was gone, too, along with any semblance of trust and friendship he had ever carried for Drake. 

He tore his eyes away from that spot before looking through the windows. It was raining outside, and the soft patter of rain against the glass created a haunting melody. Grayson thought about the way how his former friend had always hated water, and he briefly wondered whether it was possible that he could find him since he had always been a great tracker. Drake would be holed up in a cave, no doubt, to stay out of the rain. 

He is long gone, a nasty part of Grayson’s mind supplied. He’s not coming back, and you’re not going to see him again. 

Grayson stared through the rain, a blueish grey hue overtaking everything. He had been tried to recognize the futility of a situation when he saw it, and the former soldier didn’t care. 

“I’m coming for you, Drake,” he murmured to himself as he packed his things into his backpack. No matter how long it took, or even if it meant his death, Grayson wouldn’t stop looking for him. It wasn’t trust that motivated him, nor was it anger. He didn’t even know what he would do once he found his former friend, but Grayson knew that he would never forgive himself if he didn’t try. 

Was he angry that Drake had left with his egg, or was he just angry that he had left? Grayson wasn’t sure about that, either, but as he sheathed Andruin at his side and prepared to step out into the pouring rain, he figured that that didn’t matter. 

“I’m coming for you. That’s a promise.” And then Grayson opened the door and stepped outside of the ruined building to begin his new quest.


	2. Blood and Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ferox plays a game of Clue as he tries to discover just exactly stole his precious... egg. Well, a man's gotta do what he's gotta do for an omelette, amirite?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *buries face in hands* I cannot believe that I forgot that there were two emperors! I don't know if they did away with the civil war and the East and the West and stuff for the comics, but I was nearly done when I realized that something wasn't sitting right. I rewatched "Campfire," and gah, point is I had to rewrite EVERYTHING.
> 
> *deep breath* Okay Lya, you can recover from this. A day may come when you know The Haunted like the backside of your hand again, just be patient, casually binge the series when you should be being productive, etc.
> 
> I think for the rebooted one-shots, I'm going to do what I did with the original: I know that in the beginning I tried to give the original characters their own story each before redoing POVs. I did Grayson last time, and this one I decided to tackle Ferox because why the hell not. Let's see, that leaves Drake, Mia, Armen, Collin, Mairyn (?)... I'm gonna have to figure out what other characters exist... Heh, can I make Slimey the light spirit again? I know that was a theory I had, but I can't remember if I wrote for it before my untimely disappearance.
> 
> Also, it was such a pleasant surprise to have reviews when I posted for the first time in forever! It made me feel so good, and I hope that I won't disappear again. *crosses fingers* It's only been a few days. When was the last time I posted within a few days?
> 
> Well, without further ado, let the chapter commence!
> 
> Let's Go On An Adventure

Blood and Flame

His cloak swept across the dusty floors of the hidden chambers as Ferox entered the hidden chamber where he knew where it was hidden. It took a fortnight to lay siege to the Emerald City, but now that its defenses had finally fallen, he could take what was rightfully his. He had discovered the egg's location from a few unwilling sources, so it wasn't difficult for the Emperor of the East to find the hidden panel that opened the passageway into the secret vault holding the dragon's egg.

Moonlight shone down from a grate in the ceiling. It was the first night since the smoke had cleared from the siege, but he needed the torch burning in his hand to see down the passage. He came upon an elaborate stone pedestal. Intricate carvings were embedded in the stone, and there was a time in his childhood where he would have marveled at the sheer beauty, a time that was so long ago that it was worthless now.

Where was the egg?

He held out the torch, frantically searching the ground in case if the egg had rolled off of the pedestal. Did his sources lie? Even if they did, this pedestal was supposed to be holding something important because why else was it hidden? Someone must have taken it, but how? This was the Western Empire's best kept secret, and he had to coax its location from a few different high-ranking officials because no one had the complete story.

Ferox had plans, of course, plans on what to do with the egg. His court of mages were working on finding the Magical Library to hatch the egg once he had it, but he didn't have it because someone decided that it would be a great idea to take it. In a fit of anger, he threw the torch onto the ground, but nothing caught on fire. Something will, though, when he found the thief. Whoever he or she was, they would be punished.

He turned tail and left the chamber, not bothering to pick up the torch. If it burned down the secret room, so be it. Who was Ferox to care? It could be rebuilt, though he doubted that he would need to hide the egg again once he found it. He wouldn't waste any time to hatch the dragon.

He'll find it. No matter how long it took him, no matter how many lives he must sacrifice in the process, he had to recover the egg. One day it will be he who sat on the back of a dragon, commanding his troops with a zealous voice as he conquered land after land. While the Empire had been broken apart by the civil war, he'd unite it again with blood and flame, then he would expand upon his lands and bring it all under his rule.

All he had to do was wait.

Unfortunately, Ferox was not known for his patience. Over the course of the month, he had had many people thrown into the dungeons, and when the dungeons got overcrowded he had them hanged. The guards meant to protect the egg who hadn't seen the thief? Publicly flogged and executed. The Western Emperor's former top officials? Either forced into swearing fealty to him or killed along with the rest of those who fought against his reign, for the Emperor wasn't known for showing mercy to those who betrayed him, either.

There weren't any clues left inside of the temple, so whoever had taken the egg had to have known what they were doing. A master of stealth, most likely. It was highly doubtful that a common thief could have taken it, so it must have been a soldier, probably one of the West's most trusted, but who? Who could have come in and taken it underneath his very nose? Who was busy taking the egg instead of defending the city?

Well, Ferox may have his answers. He looked upon the purple-haired man before him, bedraggled in appearance and shaking like a leaf. One eye was a brilliant shade of blue, and the other was a fiery brown. He carried his hat in his hands, and his head was bowed low because he very wisely chose to not meet the Emperor's gaze.

"Speak up, boy!" he bellowed, causing some of the elves chained at his feet to cringe. He didn't always raise his voice, but he was growing impatient with the nameless soldier's quivering.

"I-I might know who has the dragon's egg," he squeaked. He fisted the hat so tightly that it was a wonder that it didn't become misshapen from the rough handling.

Ferox waited… for a full-blown five seconds before snapping, "Well, spit it out!" He didn't care how much gold he had to give the sniveling fool before him. He wanted answers, and he wanted the egg. Behind him was a guard holding a sizeable bag of money, mostly gold but there were surely a few marques in there as well. If not, then he could make do with giving the man more… as long as he actually had decent information.

The man hesitated and stared at his shoes, his oh so interesting worn boots. The money in the pouch could buy a pair of boots for every day of the year and more. So much more! Now, if he could quit his groveling and actually tell him something worth knowing!

"He's…" A he. Well, that narrowed down half of the population. "He's my… friend." There was some regret, but he regained enough composure to betray said friend. Somehow. "The commander of the armies, he left during the battle. Said he was going to do something. If anyone knows anything, he would."

"Grayson." He knew the name well enough. Grayson had been a thorn in Ferox's side for nearly two years, but he had hoped that the man's family would have kept him in line when he took the city. Apparently not. "He has a family, doesn't he?"

The soldier's eyes widened, but he nodded. "Y-yes, my lord."

"Good." A smirk formed on Ferox's face as he formulated a plan to not only have the thief out himself but to also punish him. He indicated the soldiers guarding the doors. "Send for them," he commanded ever-so-sweetly. His smirk turned into a majestic simper as the guards bowed and left.

The unnamed soldier's eyes widened further from horror, but that didn't stop him from catching the bag being thrown his way. Ferox held both arms of the throne, still grinning widely. Taking Grayson's family was only the first thing he would do to the thief. Oh, he could already see it. He would have the man's home burned into a fiery mass and force him to watch as his family hung in the square. Even if they didn't apprehend him at his home, surely he wouldn't miss the occasion?

He would make Grayson pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cue a house on fire, a couple of people hanging (I totally missed that it was Armenbrine that hanged them in Armen's short and I feel stupid. I also feel stupid because I KNOW that there was a time where Grayson pointed out gallows but I can't remember which of the Red Keep episodes it was in and now it has some angstier meaning), a lot of running, a lot of hunting, stuff and things, and will Grayson actually get to have a dragon pet? I want a dragon pet!
> 
> Plot twist: he goes batshit crazy and uses discount Drogon to burn down the Empire.
> 
> Let's hope that this momentum continues! Carry on my wayward sons and daughters!
> 
> ~Lya200~


	3. The Magic in Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3: Drake is in the middle of a well-earned nap when something shakes him out of it... and out of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I don't know why I'm doing an AO3 version for this story, but I am XDD
> 
> Let's Go On An Adventure

I've Got the Magic In Me

It wasn't just a gradual thing. No, Drake's magic came all at once, and, at the time, he didn't know what it meant. A thin blanket was wrapped tightly around his lanky form, and his feet poked through the covers because he didn't have anything better. Winter was upon him, and he wasn't ready. Sure, he could build a fire, but what would happen if it rained and the wood was too wet to build one? It wasn't easy to live in the wilderness, and there were quite a few times where Drake almost mistook a poisonous berry for an edible one. Thankfully he'd realize his mistake before sticking it into his mouth, but a day may come where he wasn't thinking clearly, and then the bitter juices of the berries would leave him sick, or worse.

It was likely that he wouldn't survive the winter. He barely survived the last one with how cold everything got. He didn't have so much as a cloak, though he was so tempted to buy one, even though he had very little money.

I wonder how Grayson is doing. Sometimes Drake thought about his other friend, though it had been two years since he last saw him in Ironmyre. Surely Grayson was doing better than he was, especially since he had been living in this place for a full year before Drake and Armen came through the portal together.

He felt a pang of sadness when he thought about Armen, who was almost like a little brother to him. When he lost him in Ironmyre, it felt as though he lost everything. Things only got worse from there a few months after when he learned that He had taken full control of his friend. He had never seen Armen like this, nor did he want to. He didn't want to face the product of his failure, and he was scared to because it would mean that the rumors were true.

Sometimes a village would be burning, and he would see the smoke rising in the distance. Drake would only run because he didn't have the means to fight back. The worst thing about all of this was his uselessness to save his friend, though he tried to find something in whatever books he got his hands on, but magic simply didn't exist anymore.

And then it did. The ground shook like there was an earthquake, and Drake could feel something in the air. His eyes shot open, and he looked around frantically for his sword. Did that mean that He was near, that He had found him? There was nothing special about his sword that would allow Drake to kill Him, and, besides, the only weapon that could was still smoldering in the lava after Armen used it to kill - or try to kill - that… that thing.

Even though Drake's sword, which was of cheap make and hardly useful in a fight, would be useless against Him, he wasn't ready to die. Not like this. Not alone.

There was no sign of Him anywhere, but the feeling was there, hanging in the air like a cloud of smoke after a fire. Whatever had happened had ended, but it was still there. Why could he feel it? Why was he sensing something that shouldn't be there?

Unless if there was something there. Drake's eyes adjusted to the darkness of the cave, but he couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. Then his left hand, which had been clenched into a fist when he prepared to fight, relaxed, and there was a light. Drake looked down and saw a faint orb in his hand. The light was weak, but it was there. Somehow, he was the one making it.

Magic. It had to be.

Drake looked forward into the darkness of the cave. He was close to something, certainly. There was something close by, and he could feel the pull growing stronger and stronger as he reached the mouth of the cave. The starlight sprinkled across the water, and, just ahead of him, was a huge mountain. It was a mountain that he hadn't dared to try and scale himself in case he fell down its treacherous slopes, but now the temptation was too great.

Later he would try to figure out where this sudden magic came from, but right now, Drake was gathering what little belongings he had and shoving them into his leather backpack. The light in his hand flickered several times, but just as he thought about how it was about to go out, it would brighten again. He didn't understand this magic, but he didn't need to. Not yet. First, he had something to do. Once he found whatever was hidden inside of that mountain, he would come up with his next plan. He would save Armen, or he would die trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doodoodoodoo Yeah!
> 
> ~Lya200~


	4. The Puppets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4: Armen is little more than a puppet in the demon's game, and he doesn't even know what is real anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okey, the Armen one is a go go, yo! I've got an idea for Mia's, but I think that I am going to have to rewatch Temptation and Campfire for that, and I am trying to rewatch them in order... Hmm, I'll think of a solution. I also need to start on the Grayson's son thing that ended up being talked about on the Discord because that is too much angst that I cannot ignore... It's calling to me... I want it. Where there is potential for pain, I want it.
> 
> If it's any comfort, I'm not as kill-hungry anymore. I like hurt/comfort people can come back from... Usually. This one is sticking to canon, so there IS death, but it's not my trigger-happy fingers anymore! Lya is all grown up *sniffs*
> 
> Let's Go On An Adventure

The Puppet

He never knew what was real, or what was fake. He hoped that it was all fake. Sometimes He would let Armen see out of his own eyes, and he would get to see the bloodshed and destruction. Smoke would rise from buildings in columns from the massive fires. There would be screams everywhere as people tried to flee. They never could. No one survived His attacks, or so it was said.

He knew that some of this was real, but there were times where He had to be toying with Armen. Like when he woke up to find blood all over his hands from when he had stabbed Drake because his friend didn't defend himself against him. How could that have been real when he saw him the next night, alive and well and talking to Grayson and that elven girl that Armen didn't know?

That didn't make things any better, though. Armen would beg to Him to leave his friends alone. How many times did he hear Drake and Grayson's pleas before the demon snuffed out their lives? How many ways has he watched them die again and again because He enjoyed tormenting Armen? He watched them get stabbed, strangled, and even burned alive, all because the demon wanted to punish Armen.

The boy tried to resist and to take back his own body. If he could escape, even for a split second, he would just to save one life. It didn't matter to him anymore whether he lived or died. There wasn't a way for Drake to save him, not without his friend sacrificing himself or others to bring Armen back. Armen would never forgive him if he did. His life was over… Well, it should have been over the second he dove into the lava, pushing the demon-possessed Collin into the fires with him as one last sacrifice to protect his friends.

Sometimes Armen wondered if that sacrifice was in vain. How many more times would he have to watch Drake and Grayson die before he finally broke? He was barely holding on by a thread, and it was only a matter of time before Armen was gone. Soon, there would be nothing left of him to save, and he wanted to tell Drake that so that he would end this pointless quest. But when he told his friend to not save him, Drake didn't listen. They were looking for the Magical Library, and maybe there this would all end.

Maybe he'd get to save his friends one last time.

He watched as his own hands wrapped tightly around Grayson's neck, his scarf torn apart and lying on the ground covered in blood. He watched as Drake was crushed by the falling rubble of his own dream world. He watched as Grayson's home burned… with him in it. He watched as an arrow from an unnamed assassin pierced Drake's leg, sending him into a coma. He watched as everything fell apart, and he couldn't tell what was real or fake because everything still felt the same to him.

There was no escape for Armen, and there might be no escape for Drake, Grayson, and Mia. The world changed around him, and yet everything was the same. People died. Buildings burned. Armen could see it all.

He just wanted to know how much of this was real. Maybe his friends died a long time ago, and He was taking pleasure in Armen's pain as he struggled with the demon. The lives of his two only friends could have been ended at any point, but He toyed with the boy, slowly breaking him so that soon, Armen would amount to nothing.

Armen tried to call out when Drake raised his sword against Grayson's, but no one heard. He tried to fight back when the demon chased the three when they were attacked by the mercenaries, but there was no stall in the attacks. He tried to hold himself back when He gathered the last diamond, the one that Drake held onto and protected, and went to face his former friends inside of the Magical Library.

There was no saving Armen. He was just a puppet in the demon's game, and the others might have been, too. They were all puppets to Him, and one by one, He would pull on their strings until they fell.

Armen saw the Library, and he saw the ruins and the splendor. It was a place lost to time, but there were answers, just not answers to his predicament. Armen was lost, but perhaps the others weren't after all.

When Armen saw Drake raising Grayson's sword, the remnants of the Fiery Sword, to one of the three, Armen knew that was real. It was the first thing he was certain of since he fell into the lava, and in the exact moment that the stone shattered, so did he.

Thank you, Drake, for saving me.

Everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the basic premise is that Armen doesn't know what is real or not real. For some reason I remember him yelling about how this was all fake once, but I can't remember WHEN that was. Origins? He didn't get a whole lot of dialogue in this series XDD
> 
>  
> 
> I guess see you guys next time when I come up with something else? I want to write for Maia, but Grayson's kid and Ferox are calling to me... We'll just have to see! Love you all!
> 
> ~Lya200~


	5. The Color of His Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mortally wounded, He takes a new vessel to survive. Now Drake will stop at nothing to save his best friend: Grayson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Chuck what has brought on my sudden "hey I need The Haunted" mood today? Like last night I would just message obscure Haunted quotes to my friends despite knowing they wouldn't know where they were from. I've been hunting all of the Drayson fics that I could off of Wattpad. Chuck, this urge overcame me so strongly that I was DYING to write some Drayson, and when I went into my docs, my little elf eyes saw this little gem.
> 
> I think that originally I planned on writing a full-on story for this, but I can't remember where I was going with this. Like... I don't know. It probably would have ended with either Drake or Grayson dying, or MAYBE a happy ending? I don't know, but after adding a few lines of dialogue, I've decided just to post as is. I've learned over the past couple of years that I like posting the shorter stories with maybe an occasional "something other" type thing.
> 
> And, as of typing out this AN, I've decided that Grayson would totally adopt Baby Yoda should they ever meet because he is a dad and can you just imagine this? Because I can, and now I am smiling at the thought.
> 
> Let's Go On An Adventure

Grayson's body was flung to the ground like a ragdoll, and the demon advanced on him, pressing a sword the color of dark ash through his chest. From behind, Drake felt as all of his breath left him. His mouth opened to let out the most inhuman shriek that he possessed, and he raised his fiery fist and prepared to end the demon once and for all for what he had done.

Grayson beat him to it. The fallen soldier managed to lift up his sword and thrust it through Armen's stomach. His face was heavy with a grimace from the pain that the action cost him, but he kept going, twisting the blade in deeper for good measure. The demon dropped his sword, and Drake thought that the battle was won.

Drake lowered his hand, looking everywhere for one of the healing potions that Grayson always seem to have on him, and then the demon grabbed Grayson by the front of his shirt, unfazed even by this blade. The human grunted and clawed at Armen's burned arms, but there was nothing that he could do to escape. Before Drake could react, something like black smoke started leaking out of Armen. It stayed in the air for a long moment, and Drake knew instantly what the demon was going to do to survive.

"No!" he yelled in alarm, and there had to be a spell to stop Him from taking Grayson, too, but something was throwing him back. Drake was knocked to the ground several feet away by an unseen force, and a splitting headache made him lose all of his senses. He gripped his forehead, eyes squeezed shut in pain. Grayson. You have to save… Grayson.

Drake forced himself to open his eyes, but everything was a blur. When he looked in Grayson's direction, he saw the last of the black smoke entering through Grayson's mouth. Armen's body collapsed, releasing Grayson to the ground. Drake's breathing became heavy, and he tried to stand up. His legs were too wobbly for him to stand on, though, and he fell to his knees almost immediately. His head was still pounding, but he kept trying to get to Grayson and Armen. He had to. He had to save them both.

Grayson managed to get up first, or, rather, he was sitting up despite the gaping wound in his chest, but it didn't seem to be affecting him anymore. His breathing had calmed down, but there was something about it that Drake didn't like. It was too calm, too slow, like he shouldn't be breathing in the first place. Then the blond cried out, and it no longer mattered how wrong his breathing was. Drake panicked and tried to stand again, but he couldn't do anything as his friend grit his teeth to silence his screaming.

Grayson's eyes were tightly shut, and every effort to breathe seemed to cause him more pain. Finally, Drake's injured comrade managed to speak out with a strained sort of voice. "Drake…" he said weakly, twisting his hand through his sweaty blond hair like he was holding himself back. "Go. Go! Get out of here!"

Drake's mind went blank, and he stared at his friend dumbly through the haze of his own migraine. Despite knowing what happened, Drake still had to ask. "Grayson, what… what's happening?"

"I can't hold him back for much longer!" Drake's eyes were trained on the stab wound, but it had been done with a normal blade, not the purple sword lying in the grass. That blade had somehow managed to hurt the demon, but Drake couldn't explain why.

"I'm not leaving you here," he said stubbornly as he tried to stand again. This time his headache wasn't as bad, and Drake didn't fall down as quickly as he had in his last attempt. He took an awkward, shaking step towards Grayson, but he seemed to sense this and recoiled backwards.

"You have to!" Grayson begged. That was right, he was begging now for Drake to leave him behind, which was of course the last thing that the hybrid wanted to do. Grayson grunted again, twisting his face with agony at the pain that it took to hold the demon back.

"Grayson…"

But the soldier was waving him off. "Go!" His eyes opened for a brief second, and, instead of the emerald irises Drake had become accustomed to, his eyes were milky with only the faintest trace of green left. Grayson reached for his sword, and with as much strength as he could muster without losing control, he threw Andruin away from him so that it landed at Drake's feet. "Take the sword, and find the egg. Don't come back for me."

Drake was going to refuse. He wasn't about to leave Grayson behind, but then he heard the most feeble voice that he thought for sure that he wasn't going to hear again. "Drake…"

Something lifted in Drake's chest, and he collapsed to the ground beside his oldest friend. Armen had quickly fallen unconscious again, but it was enough. Drake sent Grayson one last fleeting look, and he opened his mouth to speak, but when his friend's eyes opened again, they were completely white.

"Go!" His voice was distorted, and Drake knew that his control was slipping. Any moment now it would no longer be Grayson's body but the demon's, a new vessel to be used to destroy the Badlands.

Drake reached out and took the sword Grayson had thrown at him. From the moment that he touched its handle, Drake knew that it was a powerful sword, but he didn't know what was in the blade that made it so powerful. He muttered an incantation under his breath, and he kept his eyes on Grayson until he and Armen were both gone.

That was a year ago.

It has been one year since Drake left Grayson behind by that river. He never got to learn how he had stolen the dragon's egg, but upon returning to Grayson's hiding place, the mage had looked until he found it behind a secret door in the basement. It almost felt wrong to take it, but he knew that Grayson had wanted this before he…

It wasn't even Grayson anymore. Drake had not seen what had become of his friend since he made his escape, but he knew that He was searching for them. Drake had nursed Armen back to health the best that he could with all of the magic that he possessed, and for a year the two had to keep running. They never stayed in one place for too long, much like when Drake had been traveling with Grayson.

He got what he wanted. He had Armen back. It had been hard to keep his friend alive after the demon left him. His body should have been destroyed when they fell into the lava, and somehow Grayson's sword had been able to hurt the demon. It should have been a fatal blow, but when Drake took Armen back to his home and into close proximity with the diamond, Armen seemed to get better. At least his injuries were now treatable, though there was so much left to explain. Drake still did not understand the power of the diamond, the sword, or the egg, which he kept in his underground lair with as many seals as he could to protect it until he got Grayson back.

And he was going to get him back. Hell if Drake let him continue to be possessed, much like how Grayson had been willing to come along on this suicide mission to bring Armen back. While there was a new face terrorizing this world and burning down every village in His path, Drake knew that there was a way to save him. There had to be. He had been too late to stop the demon from taking Grayson, but this terror has been going on for long enough. He was going to end this once and for all.

Drake turned the page in his spellbook so loudly that he almost did not hear Armen come in. He read the dark forbidden spells in his book and thought about what he had done to take out that part of the demon from Armen's body to put in himself. Could he do the same with Grayson? His powers had grown since then, so perhaps there was a way to take out even more and put it somewhere else to give Grayson back control of his body.

He only noticed Armen when his friend poked his shoulder. Drake startled but quickly recovered when he realized that it was only Armen. "Oh, hey Armen," he greeted as he placed a velvet bookmark on the page and shut the book.

"Hey Drake." It would take much longer than a year to rid Armen of his jumpiness. Hardly anything got his friend to smile anymore, and more often than not he spoke with that same dull tone instead of the happy and carefree one from before all of this happened.

"Hey Armen," Drake greeted him, trying for a smile when he realized that he repeated himself. It came out more like a grimace, which he schooled back into a neutral expression. "What's up man?"

Armen shrugged and stared at the book Drake was holding. Drake tried to cover the title, but his younger friend had already seen and frowned. "Just seeing what you were up to. Are you going to use magic to save Grayson?"

It had been hard to explain to Armen the events of the last four years. The last time they had been able to talk to each other was in Ironmyre before Armen sacrificed himself. So much has changed since then, starting with Drake now being able to use magic and him using it to try and save Armen. Then there was the business with the dragon's egg and how it was now in Drake's possession, not Grayson's, and that it was the reason behind Drake's powers.

Drake didn't want to involve Armen in this. Everything else that they had, they did so together, but this was too far. He wasn't inclined to put Armen in any danger this time around, not when he could do this by himself. Whatever Drake was going to do, he would face Him alone.

"You're not going to come with me. You're going to stay here, and I'll get Mia to come by and check on you in a few days."

Armen stood up to make himself taller than his friend. "I can take care of myself Drake."

The mage sighed. "Alright, I won't invite her here then if you really think that you can take care of the place while I'm gone."

"I'm not talking about that." Armen's eyes were clouded to the point where it was hard to see where his pupils ended and became the white of his eyes. Even with the demon gone, anyone who looked into his eyes long enough would see how discolored they had become. It made his anger disconcerting to look at, and it even made Drake uncomfortable. It reminded him too much of the demon who possessed his friend… of the demon possessing his other friend...

The mage looked down, conveniently landing on the glint of light that reflected off of the pommel of Grayson's broadsword. "I'm not giving you a choice, Armen. I have to do this alone." Drake didn't know if he could do this alone or not, but he wasn't dragging Armen into danger again. There was something inside of him that told Drake that he needed to look after Armen, to protect him. No matter if it meant that he was going to go after Grayson alone, he wasn't dragging Armen anymore into this. He had to keep him safe.

"No you don't," Armen said, and there was a touch of pity clouding his voice. Understanding. Grief. Resignation. "Drake, you have to be reasonable. Doing this by yourself isn't going to bring Grayson back." When Drake stiffened, Armen continued softly, "Let me help. He's my friend, too."

Drake stood up, and now he was towering over his very much human friend. He couldn't bear it if Armen got hurt because of him, and he opened his mouth to argue. However, his words betrayed them, and the words that slipped out of his mouth weren't the words that he planned on using at all. "All right, Armen. You can come."

He stilled as Armen clapped him on the back, a motion that he was so used to Grayson doing that it had taken him by surprise. He was already regretting conceding and allowing Armen to come on him for this deadly mission. He only planned on being gone for a few days, and yet he wouldn't be surprised if it lasted much longer than that. It had already taken him four years to get Armen back, and he had only used magic for two of them. For Grayson, it could take that or longer, and yet Drake knew that he would travel to the ends of the earth to find and rescue his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, that's all I've got? I could go back and write a sequel to this eventually, but I like leaving it off here. A nice, ambiguous ending. I captured the emotions that I wanted to, and I didn't want to make it too much like I was rewriting a couple of my other one-shots (I think Missing In Action and Shut Down?).
> 
> Ah well. Also in my doc sheet there are two different versions of Grayson's son is alive fics. One is happy, the other is angsty. Hell, you all know me! I ALSO have some kind of character study for Grayson because of a writing prompt from one of my Discord writing groups (yes it is a good group). All in all... I'm just going to go write more now! Maybe I'll have something else soon!


	6. The Commander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grayson's been running for all of his life to escape his past, but now he isn't alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Step one: write while at work. Seriously. At least 90% of this is the product of me on my phone while eating a burger in one hand, and now, I am without my glasses and can barely see the screen, so HOPEFULLY there are no errors!
> 
> Step two: I want a sandwich. It's 4:30 am, I'm hungry, but I don't want to make anything. That's my mood.
> 
> Step three: oh looky, new story! Apparently I have more stories on the backburner than I thought. I discovered what was going to be a Bond of Sacrifice rewrite because... Drayson. Hmm, maybe I ought to cut back on the Drayson stuff to give other characters a time to shine. I've STILL not done anything yet for Mia, so I'll try to do her next. We'll see.
> 
> Step four: yawn because I am tired.
> 
> Let's Go On An Adventure

The Commander

When he took the egg, he lost everything. For two years he had been running, always looking over his shoulder to see if someone was there. Then again, Grayson had been running for much longer than that. He ran to escape the demon who had been haunting him for years before he met Drake and Armen. His life before the Arctic Base was blank, and he didn't know what he was running from until they told him. Grayson had been alone for most of it since the rest of his team went missing, but then he had two strangers with answers.

When he came through the portal, though, he was alone again, and never once did he stop looking back. He was still watching Grayson for no reason that the soldier could explain. He never moved too far from the place that he had come out, and he was glad for it when he heard the voices of the two same strangers he met in the Arctic Base.

After that Grayson started to run from his past. Armen had sacrificed himself to kill the demon, and Drake chose to part ways from him because he was a reminder of what he lost. Grayson couldn't really blame him, not when he wanted to forget about the demon, too. He traveled north to escape the last reminders of Him. He kept going, always keeping his shattered past at his back. Anything that he remembered of it he wanted to forget just as he forgot about everything else. It was time to start afresh and to create a new identity of himself for this warped new world. Nothing could stop him from running.

When he stopped running, he had it all. He had a colorful new position leading the emperor's army as they fought a civil war and other wars. He had a family: a beautiful wife and son whom he held dear. He had gold, more than he could have ever wanted. He had a life, and it was so easy to forget the past he was running from.

Then Grayson took the dragon's egg in the dead of night, and he was running again. His home burned behind him, taking everything away from him except for the clothes on his back and the egg in his hands. Screams echoed from the square, and he could see his family's dead eyes staring back at him every night when he went to sleep. The people he once cared about were either dead or wanted him dead. Any care he had for the world was gone, and he became deeper entrenched in his resentment and anger.

He kept running.

Grayson's heart was closed off for good, now. Instead of love and a desire to make it home to his family, it was hatred and a desire for revenge that kept him going. Not a night passed where he didn't fantasize about killing the emperor. All of his gear from the Hall of Heroes was gone, melted and fuzed together in a hump of useless metal. Now he had Andruin, a remnant of his past adventures with Drake and Armen.

Even with the sword, he still kept everything. He was keeping everything in the past, everything and everyone he had ever met. His wife. His son. Ferox. Luke. Armen. Drake.

He kept running.

He didn't dare to let himself become close to anyone again. Grayson knew that if he did, they would only end up hurt or worse, or he would be betrayed just like so many times before. No matter how far he ran away from his past, bleak and painful and hard to forget, Grayson still kept running. Even now, four years after Ironmyre, he was still running. When the voice called out to him, although familiar and welcome to his heart, Grayson knew that he would only bring danger if he stopped to say hello.

He kept running.

Grayson tried to tell himself that it was for the better. The hellhole he had dug himself into was too deep, and he shouldn't drag anyone else into it with him. Yet, when the voice called out to him again, he called back. For once, Grayson did not run. He stayed with Drake, and they talked and trusted. Grayson shared with him his deepest, darkest secret, though he omitted a few details. Drake didn't need to know how much of a failure Grayson was. If he couldn't protect his own family from the clutches of the Empire, how could he protect Drake?

Grayson didn't know how he was dragged along into this mission to save Armen, but he was. Although most in the Empire played off the idea of a demon terrorizing the Badlands as a scary story to keep the children from misbehaving, the first time Grayson heard it, he knew that it was true. He just thought that he had left that part of his life behind him. But really, was there ever a chance that he could escape?

Now he was running, but this time he was running with someone else. Nightmares chased after them through the Badlands, but they were nothing compared to Armen. The Red Keep burned around them, and every instinct in Grayson's body told him to protect the people. He could hear the screams, and those and the flames reminded him too much of that night. His heart pounded, and in the midst of all of the chaos, his eyes landed on Drake.

If he was going to run, then Drake was going to run, too.

One hand remained around the hilt of his sword. Grayson had no idea if the remnants of the Fiery Sword would do any good against Armen and the demon possessing him, but it made him feel safe. Having Drake here with him also made him feel safe. His other hand was wound even tighter around Drake's wrist, and he pulled Drake along as he made his escape until Drake was running on his own.

They kept running. Together.

Then, at the river, Grayson's past came back to haunt him. A masked assassin, his old friend, shot Drake before trying to kill Grayson (or to kill them both). Magic threw the assassin far away from them, but he knew that Luke would be back. Grayson would have ran, but Drake was injured. He gathered his taller friend and supported his weight as he guided him towards shelter. The rain pounded around them, but slowly, surely, they made their way towards safety.

There was no running this time. To run would mean Drake's death.

Grayson cared for the injury the best he could, but his healing potions were all gone. After Drake aggravated his injury more by clambering down the stairs and down a hole in the ground that went far deeper than it should, Grayson forced him to sit by the fire. As he cleaned and bandaged Drake's arrow wound, Grayson's mouth moved for him. He told Drake of his family. He told him the truth. Grayson knew that, if the world allowed him to, he would have told him about how he obtained the dragon's egg, too.

Instead, Grayson was awoken in the middle of the night. His sword was resting by his side, and at the slightest disturbance, he brandished it at the enemy, but Drake was not the enemy. The white glow in his eyes faded, and his friend collapsed. Grayson made to catch him, nearly cutting himself on Drake's sword in the process. He let the sword - both swords, actually - clatter to the ground, and he was left kneeling into the torn carpeting watching in panic as Drake's breathing became more erratic. A terror Grayson had thought for two years he was no longer capable of feeling consumed his heart, and overcome by a sudden strength borne of desperation and love, he carried Drake over to the next room and laid him to rest.

The next morning, Grayson set out early. He left Drake all of the supplies he thought that he might need should he wake whereas Grayson planned on traveling light. He was going to the Wall to see if they had any healing potions. They had to have them because only the strongest potions could save Drake now. He was well aware that he was being followed, and so Grayson ran. He ran from his pursuer. He ran from the fact that Drake tried to kill him (but it couldn't have been him because Grayson's friend would never do that). He ran from fires and screams and gallows.

He kept running, but not for long. This time, Grayson would be running back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this goes through Memories. Originally I was going to end this at Reunion when he is running from the familiar voice, but then I kept writing and had to cut myself off here because after that is Sunken Treasure and hey more happy chill pill times! No more running from the past! (Well... maybe... who knows? I sure as hell don't!).
> 
> I'm gonna try to brainstorm something for Mia now. Toodles!
> 
> ~Lya200~


	7. How to Love Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love is a fickle thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is! Your good ole feelsy Valentine's Day one-shot! (And even though it is technically the 15th I never went to bed so it is still Valentine's Day for me hah!)... I'm gonna be honest, as I was writing this I had no clear idea where it was going to end up. I just wrote until I came to a point where I could write an ending because mental musings are like that :P
> 
> You know, all of that effort I put into Mason in my old one-shots stories never really... clicked? Not for me, anyway, but Drayson, well, I can live and breathe that ship. If I ever truly dwelve into romancy stuff, it would probably be with them.
> 
> So here's to it: Drayson! Don't get too too excited because it's still heartbreaking, but hey, I'm the amazing Lya200, did you expect anything less from me?
> 
> And... funny story... my Valentine's fic WAS gonna be Drayson raising Grayson's kid together, but then I saw my unfinished prompt for my writing group and was like, "Hold on, let's fix that one sentence's wording for later..." Nope. I finished that instead, and the kid one remains I think halfway done? Maybe 3/4 of the way done. Knowing me, that one could go on FOREVER because there is so much that I wanna do with them (unless if I post it in different parts which actually isn't such a bad idea now that I think about it and it will keep it from being ridiculously long.
> 
> Ah, yes, the lack of sleep is getting to me, but I have to post this!
> 
> And just a warning: Grayson is like really depressed in this but it's an accident I swear!
> 
> Let's Go On An Adventure

How to Love Again

Grayson always wore a carefully constructed mask to conceal his emotions, but sometimes it became too much to keep up the charade. His barriers would break down piece by piece before all that was left was an empty husk of a man who had seen far too much death and destruction, some of which had been at his own hands during his days as the commander of the Emperor's armies.

And yet no matter how broken he was, he never let Drake notice. Grayson would wait until his friend was fast asleep before he rose with shaking legs and erratic breaths. He would put a safe distance between him before he would collapse to his knees again, this time alone. A pair of wedding rings would be clutched in his fist, a pair of objects so valuable and yet he couldn't afford to lose them. He'd cry into a baby's blanket, which would be worn with rough handling and age. It was only when he was alone that he allowed himself to be who he really was, not an outlaw or a dragon's egg thief but a grieving husband and father who had lost everything.

He had gotten quite used to hiding his tears. Often Drake would oversleep, giving Grayson ample time to hide any evidence that he had ever cried. It wasn't that he didn't trust Drake, quite the contrary, but this was something he needed to face alone. Armen was more important than Grayson's own problems, and he would push them aside until their mutual friend was saved and Drake was happy again.

He didn't know when Drake had become the priority, but somewhere in the past few weeks, he did. Through thick and thin, when it was just the two of them, Drake had become more important than that damned dragon's egg. It didn't matter what happened to Grayson as long as Drake was safe because if he lost him, the only person left that he loved, he might as well just give up like he almost did before he found Drake again.

Maybe that's what it was. He was just clinging to Drake for love and support despite knowing that the other would never feel the same way towards him that Grayson felt for him. He clung to his best friend, afraid to let go of him because if he did he'd lose him like he lost his family. But when Drake was looking, he didn't tell him an ounce of it. He couldn't because if he did, Drake would leave like he left him four years ago. Grayson knew that he would, and he couldn't be left to pick up the pieces of a broken friendship, a broken love, once again.

He thought that things would be better when Mia joined their little group. She made things feel lighter between him and Drake, and Grayson's sense of longing would be buried beneath all of the morbid jokes that they would share. When he was alone with Drake, things were harder to hold back. His emotions were clouded, and yet he kept secrets from him until he almost got him killed.

Mia called them out on arguing like an old married couple, and while Drake only laughed, Grayson's heart turned numb at the thought. It could have been so easy, if only he had the guts to tell Drake how he really felt about him, but thoughts of his dead wife and son kept him from doing that. Would it be a betrayal towards his family? He had already betrayed them before by taking that egg and bringing about their deaths. Was he doomed to be alone forever?

Grayson might have finally found friends he could count on, and yet he had never felt more alone. He could trust Drake with his life, but not his secrets. Drake only knew about that damned egg and what happened to his family, but only because Grayson had messed up. He didn't tell him how he obtained it. He didn't tell him of the literal hellscape he felt that he lived in for two years after losing everything. Hell, he had been living in that same hellscape since long before that: when he had been alone in the Arctic base, when he had been trapped alone in Ironmyre for a year, when Armen died and Drake left him alone because he just wanted to forget.

God, Grayson was a mess.

But at the end of the night, he always picked himself up again. He hid his rings, he hid the blanket, he hid his tears. Nothing ever came up, and his secrets were safe. Drake never noticed that something was wrong, and that was okay. Drake had plenty enough to worry about, and Grayson wasn't going to let anything distract him from their common goal: to save Armen. Grayson meant nothing in comparison.

In another life, Grayson wasn't sure what would have happened. Their lives were intertwined because of that demon who haunted them all, but if you took Him out of the picture, they would have never met. Grayson would have lived a normal life somewhere, but without Drake. No, he couldn't have that. For the first time in years, Grayson was allowed to breathe, allowed to love, and he couldn't say a word without the fear that he would send his one true friend running for the hills. The painful feeling in his heart was better than knowing that if he told the truth, he'd lose Drake forever.

He dropped the rings into his pocket: worn, golden, warm from his touch. One belonged to him, and the other, the smaller one, to his dead wife. Grayson shed another tear as he thought back to that life, but Drake hadn't been in it. No, Drake was sleeping right beside him. Although tired and weakened from an earlier display of powerful magic, he was safe. That was truly the only thing that mattered right here and right now.

Grayson only glanced over at Mia's sleeping form to be sure that she was asleep, too. Then he walked over like the silent hunter he was. Then, with a touch that was soft and near imperceptible, he readjusted Drake's blanket from where it had slipped during a restless fit. Grayson stared at him longingly, and he remembered how nothing could ever come of this.

"I love you, Drake," he whispered only to himself. Grayson knew he wouldn't be heard, so his secret was safe. The only way he could ever confess this to Drake would be if one of them were on their deathbeds, and even then he probably couldn't.

Grayson returned to his own sleeping bag. Facing the dying fire, he could see his house burning and people screaming from its depths. When he closed his eyes, he could see his wife and son hanging in the square because he had gotten to them too late. However, the most terrifying thing would have to be Drake's dying form as he lost color and consciousness from that poisoned arrow, not to mention how he had almost killed Grayson in his possessed state. If he hadn't woken up, Grayson would have let him. It would have been better than killing Drake instead.

You guys are alive. They aren't.

Grayson would keep him safe. He would ensure that Drake would be happy again, even if he suffered along the way. If he could return Armen to Drake, then all would be well. Where he failed in protecting his family, he wouldn't fail in protecting Drake. He couldn't. If something were to happen to him, Grayson knew he would never be able to forgive himself. There would be no coming back from that second heartbreak.

"I love you, Drake," Grayson whispered into the air. He thought everyone was asleep, and he did not know that this time, he was overheard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the only thing left to do is do something with Drake's take on this story, but that's a story for another day when Lya isn't running on no sleep :P And hopefully that take would be happier and maybe with a happy ending for them both because I have fallen for this ship so Chucking hard gah!
> 
> I just wanna read some Drayson now :(
> 
> Meanwhile, poor Mia still doesn't have any stories on here. I fear that if I don't post something for her soon, she'd kill me.
> 
> ~Lya200~


	8. To Save One Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mia was sure that she was going to die, but then she didn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah! I finally finished something for Mia! (and it only took me to post three one-shots and finish two more that will be posted later on for me to get to this point).
> 
> The credit for this goes to CJ right here. Now here's the funny story: if memory serves me correctly, the lore behind when Grayson gets possessed is sometime around Memories before they met Mia, so I turned that idea into something to get Drake to meet Mia!
> 
> There are references to the old Red Queen lore (all based on memory), demon-possessed Grayson, and Mia of course! I believe that her team of archaeologists was killed during the attack on the Red Keep, but that requires me going back and rewatching that video :P
> 
> Let's Go On An Adventure

To Save One Life

Smoke spewed from every building, clogging the air with ash and the putrid smell of a burning city. So many were dead already, and so many more would be dead before the sun began to rise over the horizon. Mia feared that she would be among the dead, and the rapier clutched in her hand would be useless against whatever thing was attacking her now. Like everyone else in the Badlands, she had heard the stories, but never had she thought that they were true.

Oddly enough, she pictured him differently from the real thing. Gathered from rare eyewitness accounts and the statues of that demon found across the badlands, she had heard of a figure with glowing white eyes, hair dark as night, and ashen clothes and skin torn from battle. This creature, as he was hardly a man with the destruction in his wake, had dirty blond hair. While his clothes were certainly worn, they were not coated in the ash of burning villages. However, as he flew above her head (yes flew because apparently that was a thing now), she saw a crusty dark color running down his front. Blood. His eyes, however, remained the same as the tales, but she didn't know where the stories went wrong to begin with.

Sometimes it appeared as though he was hesitating. Some attacks were delayed like something was holding the being back, and his face would contort as though in pain. It would only last for a few moments as he hovered over the burning city before he resumed his attack. Mia ducked and hid from fireballs, but if she was being honest with herself, she wouldn't be able to escape on her own. No one was known to survive these attacks, and now that she could see them for herself, she knew why. This attack was intense, and she could count the minutes until her own death because of how imminent it was.

The screams were dying down, but Mia was still alive. She tried to find the gate, but the walls were on fire. An army of the undead was marching forth, and anyone who was still alive was being felled by these monstrous creatures. Mia nearly shrieked from surprise as one caught her off guard, and she plunged her sword through its rotting chest before kicking it away with her foot. She whipped her head around to look for her next assailant, her ponytail whipping her cheeks from the motion. No, no one was there, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched.

And then…. And then Mia could no longer move. She was frozen midstep with her arms by her side. Her breathing quickened, and she was being faced down by the demon. His mouth was curled in a terrible grin, and flames came to life in his hands. Now the embers were catching on his clothes, leaving permanent blemishes that would be reported by the next to spot him. Not her, though. She'll be dead any moment.

"An elf? I haven't seen one in a long time." His voice was distorted and without emotion, chilling her spine. "But then, most of you have the sense to stay out of my way. The last elf I faced was so long ago… I killed her entire cree, and I will kill yours too."

Mia tried to move. If she could, she'd gut him for what he was saying. Of course, the people she had been on this archaeological dig with were probably all dead, anyway. "Not if I kill you first," she grunted, and her elven eyes narrowed at him dangerously. "Let me go, and I might spare you."

The monster laughed at her. "You can't move, much less kill me, but I like your spirit." He stepped closer to her menacingly, and the flames danced between his fingers. "I will enjoy killing you."

Mia tried to fight against the spell that was keeping her in place, but it was no use. His magic was too powerful. Consigning herself to her fate, she forced herself to calm down. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of her fear. She stared him down, daring him to come closer.

Come closer he did, but when he was upon her, that strange look of hesitation crossed his face once again. The flames flickered out of existence, and his fingers curled to make his fist a ball. There was rapid blinking in his milky eyes, and the man backed down, stepping away from the elf.

"Dra-" The next time he blinked, his eyes seemed clearer than before. He looked around in panic, which was incredible because Mia didn't know what could scare a demon so much that he was left in this distraught state. He then looked to her, and shock and horror played in his eyes. "You…" And his voice sounded so strained. "Why aren't you running?! Get out of here!"

"Because I can't move!" Mia shouted indignantly, but then movement returned to her body and she stumbled forward in the direction she had previously been running in. Immediately she brandished her rapier at him, but something had changed in the being. He seemed more human now.

"That weapon won't kill me," he uttered softly. He sounded so fragile and beaten. "Only my friends wield the sword that can. Find them." He fell to the ground on one knee, appearing to be fighting something Mia could not see. "Tell them to use the sword that I left them." He gasped and choked, but he continued as though this would be his last act. "No… No matter what, He has to die." He shut his eyes. "I have to die."

Mia had regained her footing as he was speaking to her, and during his speech she had lowered the rapier. She looked at him and surprised herself with the pity that she felt towards the man who had brought this village to ruin. It dawned on her that this wasn't his choice. He didn't choose to be a monster. Someone, or something had forced this onto him.

"N-no, don't talk like that," she replied as she looked at him. He scoffed and turned his head away like he already accepted his fate. Mia hesitated, but the fires that burned around them were proof of what this stranger was capable of. "Your friends, where can I find them?"

The blond cringed before he could respond, and his gasps were turning to small yelps in pain. "I can… I can bring you to them." He groaned, and Mia could see his will slipping away like water through a grate. "He can't get to them there." He released a dry but self-satisfied laugh. "They're safe, and you'll be too. Tell Drake… tell him…" At this he shook his head. "No. Don't tell him anything. Just… look after him."

Mia could see the pleading in his eyes and nodded. "I will." Of course, she had absolutely no idea what was going on, but she could see that at any moment his control over his own body would be gone. There was no time for him to explain, so she would just have to speak to his friends. The worst that could happen was that she would die, but this man had ample opportunity to kill her. "How does this work?"

"Like this." The voice was as distorted as it was when there was none of the human's will slipping in, but it was the human who was wielding the power. He took a deep breath before using the last of his will to carry Mia from this place into a new one.

The air around Mia changed, and everything else changed. Her head spun, and colors whipped around her. The fiery oranges and yellows were replaced by the dull greys and greens of worn stone. She had no idea where she was. She had never been here before. She sat up, but there was no sign of the demon. He hadn't followed her to this place… wherever this place was.

"Hello?" she called out softly. At first Mia thought that she was here alone, but then she heard a voice from the next room over.

"Stay in here, Armen. I'll look to see who it is." Then the door opened. It was another man, or almost one. His skin was blackened from some other demonic force, and one of his eyes had the same milky pale look that the demon had. He looked at Mia, and while he seemed surprised, he didn't look like he was going to attack her or anything. "Hello, I am Drake. How did you get here?"

Drake. The demon's friend.

Mia told him everything. He looked anguished when she mentioned the demon, and finally, when she was done talking about the strange message she was meant to deliver and how she came to be here, a new determined spark had returned to his eyes that probably had to do with proof that the human in the demon had free will of his own.

"Grayson, he's…" He laughed weakly. Alive. "Thank you, Mia."

Mia smiled at the stranger. She had no intentions of staying uninvited in his home, but she had one thing to ask before she left and continued on her travels (though she would leave Drake with some way to contact her if he ever needed the help or a friend to speak to). "Who is he to you?"

Drake turned away towards the glass of a window that overlooked the sea. "A friend." His hands folded together, and she pretended to not notice the tear slipping down his cheek. "More than that."

Then he turned and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go. Me happy now. I am almost done with the happy Grayson's kid is alive one-shot, and I wrote a sad dream world Grayson possessed kind of thing because... plot. Everything else that I have is three paragraphs long or less, but to be fair, this was only three paragraphs long at the start of my work shift, and look at it now! I wrote a good 60% of this while taking orders on the drive thru because I knew that I needed to get it done!
> 
> And now I can relax. Expect the next one-shot some time in the next few days because I have it finished, but I told myself that I would post the Mia one first.
> 
> ~Lya200~


	9. Little Soldier Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the anniversary of his son's birth, Grayson grieves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna be blunt and honest with you: this is not one of the one-shots that I already had written. However, my brother was watching "The Tales of Ba Sing Se" and of course I was there for Iroh's Tale. The song proceeded to get stuck in my head, and instead of shake it off and do something happy, I started thinking of Grayson, and lo and behold... this.
> 
> Obviously the song is not mine. I had to listen to the song so many times, and it is sad every time. This fic feels similar to "How to Love Again," but hey, can you blame me? I had to write something for this ruddy uddy song for Chuck's sake!
> 
> Let's Go On An Adventure

Little Soldier Boy

There was no pain like losing his son, his only son, and in the two years since their deaths, the pain never faded. It was still as fresh as it was the day he was too late to save them from the hangman.

Grayson didn't need a calendar to know what today was, and his heart compressed and burned. He couldn't bear it. He refused the plate offered to him by Mia, finding himself without much of an appetite. He spoke little, and instead of cleaning up the campsite, he slunk off to find a place where it could just sit alone and undisturbed.

Leaves fell from the trees, and as he watched them, this subtle movement felt so slow to him that he could catch one if he tried. If he did, the fragile leaves would crumble to dust beneath his fingers. He remembered a time before he lost his son where he had taken him into the forest, and he could still hear the boy's laughter as he played like he was there beside him. However, when Grayson looked (because he still looked for them despite knowing that his family was dead), he was alone. No one was there. It was just him and the silent trees and whistling wind.

"Happy birthday, my son," he whispered to the earth, and he traced his fingers through the dirt absently. He didn't know what he was drawing at first, it was just spirals upon spirals turning up the loose dirt. "If only I could have helped you." Tears welled up in his eyes, and as he knelt his head in grief, they rolled down his nose and cheeks into the otherwise dried dirt. Angry splotches of water were all too noticeable in the light dirt, but Grayson didn't notice them.

_Leaves from the vine_

_Falling so slow_

_Like fragile tiny shells_

_Drifting in the foam._

He gasped for air, a rare sign of pure emotion that otherwise he would have kept under wraps. He pressed his forehead to the rough tree bark and used his hands to hold himself in place. His whole body was shaking from his sobs as he released his grief. Tears slipped past his defenses, and he didn't care if Mia or Drake saw him crying if they came to look for him. He had refused to talk to them when they asked what was behind his bad mood. Even if they had both lost people that they cared for, it was nothing to his loss. The pain he felt was too real. If they asked, he wouldn't be able to tell them.

_Little soldier boy_

_Come marching home._

_Brave soldier boy_

_Comes marching home._

His son would have been three years old today if not for him, and as he so often wished, he wished that he could have taken everything back. He shouldn't have stolen the egg. He shouldn't have trusted the wrong person. He should have been there to protect his family from the Empire.

Grayson stayed where he was for a long time, but the pain didn't go away. Never again would he be able to hear his son's laughter. Only he was around who would remember his son's birthday, and Grayson knew that he could never forget it. It was tearing him apart inside and out knowing that he was gone, that nothing could bring him back.

He thought that he heard heavy footsteps in the leaves, but he didn't turn around to look at his friends' pity. Only when he turned back to camp, Drake was avoiding eye contact, and Mia was being too nice. Grayson still said nothing to them, and he accepted their offers of dinner with brooding and silence. He picked at the food in the bowl before deciding that he wasn't hungry enough to eat it. The food would have long since gone cold by the time that he touched it.

His friends never questioned him if they knew that something was wrong. Sometimes they pressed him for answers, but not now. For once they were keeping their distance, and he was glad for it. Never would the pain of his son's death easier, but he poured into his body his will to protect his friends so he wouldn't have to lose them too.

He didn't go to sleep that night. He stared through the leaves into the stars, and two stars seemed to shine brighter to him than the rest. One for his wife, and the brighter of the two for his son. Tears continued to glisten in his eyes, and even as morning came, the deep grief that he always carried with him would never go away.

_Little soldier boy_

_Come marching home._

_Brave soldier boy_

_Comes marching home._

"I'm sorry," he whispered into the air, and the wind carried his words away from the camp and through the forest. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry."

Stories were told from tavern to tavern of the man who stole the last dragon's egg. Some portrayed him as a dangerous criminal who sought ruin. Some more rebellious accounts portrayed him as a brave vigilante. It didn't matter because all tales forgot about the sacrifices that Grayson had to make to keep the dragon's egg out of the Empire's possession. His son, his only son, would go forgotten. If Grayson were to die, it would be as though the boy never existed. There was no one left who would remember him as that brave little soldier boy that Grayson would have raised him to be.

"Grayson?" He froze at the sound of his own name, the only movement being the light shakes of his shoulders. He didn't look at Drake, he couldn't look at him. His eyes were fixated on the black of night around them. "I know that you're awake."

Grayson didn't answer him, but the tears continued to burn his eyes and soak his cheeks.

He heard Drake sighing, and he prayed that Drake wouldn't come his way and sit beside him. He wouldn't be able to share this with him. "You don't have to talk, just listen to me, all right man?" There was a pause. "I know that I haven't been the best friend to you, and I know that you suffered a lot during these last four years. What the Empire did to you was wrong, but it wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known what would have happened."

Grayson should have known. He had been prepared to risk his life for the dragon's egg. He clutched at the fabric of his sleeping bag, still not replying, but he listened to what Drake had to say. He owed him that much.

"Don't blame yourself, man. They wouldn't have wanted you to." The next part was softer. "I'm sorry."

But what was Drake apologizing for? He had done no wrong. Grayson already knew this. He croaked out, "Drake, I…" But no more words could come out. He released another fragile tear for his dead son, and then he choked out a sob instead.

Now he could feel Drake upon him, and his friend was sitting next to him. Grayson could feel him at his back, and the shakes of his shoulders became more violent. A large hand steadied him, and fingers wove through his hair. His sobs were still audible, and Drake sat in silence with him, just listening to him.

"It would have been his birthday today," he spoke softly. He could feel the way Drake tensed even though he didn't look. "He would have been three years old if he…" Grayson choked. "I wanted to protect them, but I couldn't help them."

"You did everything you could." Drake's voice was low. "It wasn't your fault."

Grayson wasn't reassured, but he was nodding at what Drake was saying. The tears slowly stopped, but his face was still wet. "Stay here with me?" Drake was going to leave, he knew that he would, so he was surprised when he didn't.

"Of course." And he didn't leave, and he was still there as Grayson slowly drifted off, terrible memories of his family's deaths turning into happier dreams where they were still alive. Then, when he woke up, Drake was still beside him.

_Leaves from the vine_

_Falling so slow_

_Like fragile tiny shells_

_Drifting in the foam._

_Little soldier boy_

_Come marching home._

_Brave soldier boy_

_Comes marching home._

They'll be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go you're happy I'm happy we're all happy hallelujah!
> 
> So, there you have it, I guess? Really sad, but I wanted to leave it on a happier note despite the content.
> 
> Go cry your eyes out. I did.
> 
> ~Lya200~


	10. Let Me Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Possessed!Grayson Drake and Grayson meet in the dream world, and Drake is determined to show Grayson the way out. However, will he take it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why can't I for the life of me write fluff like good Chuck Lya come up with some happy tales for the people!
> 
> Someone hold me to this: next drabble I post is happy - either happy alive Grayson child (though there is a mini angst trip but it is very mini), baby dragon shenanigans, or Armen fishing! Good lord I am such an awful person!
> 
> Good news: Clone Wars Season 7 premiere is out!
> 
> Bad news: I dropped my airpod down the drain and fished in the sink for half an hour to get it back (but by some miracle it still works!)
> 
> Let's Go On An Adventure

Let Me Go

It was just the two of them: him and Grayson. His friend looked happier than Drake had ever seen him before, and he was roaring with laughter at whatever Drake said. All of the lines seemed to be gone from his face, like he had never been stressed about anything from the world. It was nice, peaceful. There was no danger to be found anywhere in this dream world.

" _Drake, what are you doing here?"_

Then the world fell apart. Images twisted and turned. It flashed from day to night, and still Drake clung to Grayson. If they could get to the exit, Grayson would be able to escape too. He would finally be free. However, the jubilance from before had disappeared, and a different Grayson was here. This one seemed older, sadder. He kept a distance from Drake, for once not taking the lead so that the dream walking mage was forced to guide them to the exit instead.

" _I've killed people, so many people."_

The dream world was the only way for Drake to communicate with Grayson. He had gotten better at lucid dreaming since his attempts to reach Armen, and he often found himself in some kind of dreamscape created by Grayson. Sometimes it was an unfamiliar manor where Grayson was cradling a babe in his arms with a lively woman by his side. Sometimes he was traveling a dense forest, but there were no nightmares lurking. Sometimes he was eating by a campfire, but the fire was tame and not trying to burn the world around them. These were the images where Grayson was mostly at peace, and he never questioned why Drake was there… like he wanted him to be there.

" _I'm doing everything in my power to keep Him from going after you. He'll kill you. You have to stop this, Drake. You can't save me. Please don't get yourself killed for my sake."_

The first time it happened, both Grayson and Drake were unsure of what to make of it. After the initial shock wore off, Grayson had done his best to make Drake stop with his efforts to save him. He had tried and he begged, but Drake refused to listen. Why would he ever listen to him? It had been an accident that he fell into this dream world, and since then Drake sought out ways to make it back. Every time he reentered the dreamscape and found Grayson, he would try his best to reach him. Every attempt was met with failure simply because Grayson didn't want to be saved.

" _I've watched you die. I've watched Armen die. So many times, and I don't know what's real and what's not. I'm scared that one day I'll wake up and find you dead, dead because of me."_

Drake learned more about Grayson here than he ever did in the real world. He learned of the man's family and how his life had crashed and burned before reuniting with Drake. He learned of the sword Andruin, reforged from the Fiery Sword wielded once by Armen all of those years ago. He learned of the egg's importance, and Grayson made him swear an oath to make the egg the priority, not Grayson. Of course, no matter what he had said to placate his friend, hatching the dragon's egg was nothing compared to Drake's desire to save Grayson.

" _You have to go, Drake. He'll never stop hunting you."_

He tried every book that he could find on the subject, but there was no cure given. Every day Drake could feel His control growing stronger, and he was afraid of the day when Grayson would be left with no free will of his own. He would be rendered into a puppet just like Armen was, and his friend would be gone. He was desperate to keep Armen alive, desperate to save Grayson, desperate to keep them both. Grayson's life and freedom was not the cost he was prepared to make when he set out to free Armen five years ago.

" _Please Drake, listen to me."_

Drake debated on taking more of the demon into himself so that Grayson would be free. It was a risky plan, and Drake knew that it would mean the end for him. Still, it would mean that Grayson was alive, and he would trade his life for the blond's in an instant. After all that Grayson had done for him to save Armen, it was time he returned the favor.

" _I've lost my family, Drake. I can't lose you, too."_

Drake knew that he couldn't do that. Grayson would never forgive him for sacrificing himself to save him, and even if he did, Drake already knew that if their roles were switched, there would be no stopping Grayson from trying to save Drake, too. He'd throw himself into the fray blindly, paying no heed to the dangers involved. Deep down, Drake knew that he was no better. He drove himself to his limits, and there were times when he drew his magic from his own life force in a failed attempt to save Grayson, but everything was for naught.

" _Drake…"_

He had grown obsessed with finding the key to Grayson's survival and salvation. Drake could tell that Armen and Mia were both growing more worried for him as his obsession became his main driving force, but they shouldn't be. Drake didn't need their worry. What he needed was for Grayson to be back within arm's reach, safe and sound. Everything that he did, he did it so that they could be together.

" _Drake, I…"_

Every dream ended the same. When Drake finally found the exit, and he always did, not Grayson. Grayson wasn't looking for the way out anymore. When Drake found the exit, he would always extend his hand, ready to take Grayson with him to the other side. If anyone could reach him, he knew that he could.

" _I'm sorry."_

Not this time.

" _I'm so sorry."_

Drake was waiting on the other side, holding out his hand like he always did. Grayson would never approach, never daring to come closer to Drake lest he spread his contagion to him. No, this time, Grayson closed the distance between them, his lips parted and a shattered look in his eyes like he had already given up. Then he was kissing him, and nothing else seemed to matter at that moment as Drake kissed back.

" _I love you Drake, but I can't let you do this."_

Tears shone in his eyes, tears that should have been impossible because this was a dream world and he was just the pawn in it. Grayson was shaking his head wildly, telling Drake to let him go, telling him to leave and to never return to this place. Drake refused, and his heart pounded in his chest like a war drum. He couldn't leave Grayson. He had to save him. He had to save him.

" _Please, don't come back for me. Let me go."_

Grayson looked at him sadly, and the longing that was always there was suddenly so clear to Drake. He did want to escape, but he was choosing not to in order to protect Drake. His emerald eyes cleared as if he gained one last trembling gasp at sanity. His hand was intertwined with Drake's, holding onto him and giving him one last look, absorbing every last detail that he could. Drake knew what he was going to do, and he was shaking his head to tell him not to do it.

" _Let me go."_

Then he let go, and the world shattered around them as Drake was pushed from Grayson's consciousness. There would be no going back, not with the new barriers erected. He tried to push against them again and again, but in vain. He was unable to reach Grayson again.

" _You can't save me. None of you can."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page 250.
> 
> You know, there's probably a special place in hell for writers like me :) This is fine :) Feelsbreaking is fine :)
> 
> Do you know what is REALLY funny? I thought that I kicked the habit of unnecessary feelsbreaking! Like, I would do it for my drabbles, but they are relatively well balanced between humor, friendship, and angst. Then I come back here and bam feels feels feels what in the hell Lya what are you doing!
> 
> *coughs*
> 
> Fishing. Babies. Dragons.
> 
> You know, I was sitting for a good moment trying to think of something to finish up my AN with, and I completely forgot that I did a Drayson kiss scene because I am awesome and too obsessed with smiley faces :)
> 
> ~Lya200~


	11. Discount Drogon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grayson had plans for what he was going to do with the dragon's egg when he hatched it, but he forgot to take into account that the dragon was still just a baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me a lot longer to write than I initially wanted, but nothing would work out on paper :( This is my take on Grayson having just hatched the baby dragon, but it is too small and too young to be doing any King's Landing destroying. Now he is torn between letting it be a baby dragon and "if I get my chance I'm going to kill the emperor." It's short, and the dragon's adorableness is supposed to come from Baby Yoda, but I don't really write "adorableness" too much XDD
> 
> Let's Go On An Adventure

Discount Drogon

For something with the capability to bring the Empire to its knees, Grayson had to admit that the baby dragon was pretty damn cute. First of all, it was just too small to bring anything down. It was no bigger than the length of his forearm, and it could easily perch on his shoulder and weighed as much as a loaf of bread. It's claws, while sharp, were not long enough to tear anything apart. The baby dragon couldn't even breathe fire yet.

The way the dragon acted was just too innocent as well. It was always following Grayson around, and when it couldn't find Grayson, it would follow Drake around instead. It was pretty funny to watch, especially with how exasperated the mage would get when the dragon nipped at his heels looking for food. There was one instance when the dragon stole one of Drake's shoes, and the next thing Grayson knew, the dragon was curling up innocently in Grayson's lap while Drake was brandishing the torn shoe at him.

Grayson remained cool. He looked Drake dead in the eye and replied, "What do you want me to do? Make him apologize? He's a baby." He ended up giving Drake a sovereign to get a new pair of shoes so that he wouldn't turn him into a frog.

For obvious reasons, the dragon could not talk. However, its methods of communication involved pathetic mewling when it was hungry or excited. When it was tired, the dragon would stretch its tiny wings and release the tiniest yawns ever before it curled up like a sleeping cat. Sometimes, when the baby dragon was really happy about something, it cooed like any baby would.

It hardly seemed dangerous, and Grayson was growing more attached to it. His plans to ravage the Empire had been softened after finding Drake and meeting Mia, but if Grayson wasn't careful, he thought of the baby dragon as a future weapon to use against the Emperor. One day he would kill him, just not now. Right now, the baby dragon was too dang cute to be killing anyone. Grayson's plans would have to wait.

Since it was winter, Grayson figured that it was cold-blooded like all lizards were and needed a way to stay warm. Since it couldn't breathe any fire yet past smoke rising through its nostrils, Grayson reasoned that it was up to them to keep the dragon warm. He went to the market and purchased a brand new baby blanket which Drake magically enforced so that the dragon didn't rip it apart.

Should he give the dragon a name? After losing his family, Grayson started fantasizing about the day that he would kill the Emperor, and using the very dragon that he had stolen as a part of his revenge seemed like a very good plan at the time. He never thought about naming the dragon, but since he was keeping it around like a pet, maybe he should…

The main problem with that was that Grayson's names were not very creative. He tried to call it just "Dragon," but no one liked the name. Even he knew that the name was too boring. He asked his friends for ideas. Mia was all for naming the dragon, but all of her suggestions were too adorable. Yes, they suited the baby dragon, but he was hardly going to ride on the Empire one day on the back of a fearsome dragon named "Chowder." His dragon was going to be fierce and unstoppable. He wouldn't be an adorable baby forever.

When he asked Drake for name ideas, however, the mage was still salty about his destroyed shoe and told Grayson to keep his "pet lizard" away from him. Grayson spent thirty minutes explaining to Drake why the dragon was more than just a lizard with wings. By the end of that conversation, he felt like Drake still didn't get it.

He felt something nudging his leg, and Grayson looked down to find the tiny green dragon looking up at him like a puppy who wanted to play. It even had a leftover twig that Grayson had planned to throw into the fire in its mouth. It looked at him expectantly and offered the stick.

Grayson sighed before taking the stick. It was warm, but it hadn't burned in the dragon's mouth. He wondered if soon the dragon would be able to breathe fire like adult dragons would. He turned it over in his hands a few times. "Do you want to play fetch? Go fetch!" He threw the stick as far away from him as he could, and the baby dragon scampered away on its tiny legs after it.

Even a battle hardened soldier like Grayson had a hard time not smiling at this. Someday the dragon would be old enough to take down entire kingdoms, but right now it was too dang cute to be taking down any empires. His revenge could wait. Right now, he was going to let the baby dragon just be a baby instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah on the shorter end but if it is any comfort my Grayson's kid being alive fic is pretty dang long right now.
> 
> And I elected not to name the dragon because we really don't know what Grayson's plans for the dragon are. He's talked about bringing the Empire to its knees before, and he wants to kill the emperor, and I still haven't bloody healed from the Game of Thrones finale... so much ash... so much burning... So much of it all...
> 
> ~Lya200~


	12. Arrows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything happened so fast, so why was Grayson so angry? That's when Drake realized that he was bleeding. CHARACTER DEATH!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, look how cute and short this is... Oh, I so could have dragged this out, but to capture the shortness of life, I just had to restrict it to this length... Oh deary me, Lya is at it again, killing the characters that she swears that she loves, but in my defense, IT JUST HAPPENED! DO NOT BLAME ME FOR WHAT MY FINGERS WROTE! THEY ACTED OF THEIR OWN ACCORDS OKAY?
> 
> Let's Go On An Adventure

The arrow moved so quickly through the air that he didn't even notice until the assassin was lowering his bow and arrow. Odd, he wondered why he hadn't noticed him before when now he was standing before them. There was a cry of rage that pierced through his soul, and he watched with confusion as his friend pushed past him with his eyes blazing in fury and his sword raised to strike the assassin down.

That's when Drake realized. Oh, he was bleeding.

For some reason, that thought wasn't nearly as worrisome as how terrifying his Grayson looked to him now. He had never seen him this angry before, not when he talked of the murders of his family, not when he spoke of the fires that burned his home, and not even as he bound his wounds and told him the story of how he stole the last dragon's egg. None of those things compared to now, and there was a deadly force at work as sword met sword. A seething anger exploded out of his friend, and the only thing that pulled him away from his murderous spree was when he dove to catch Drake who hadn't realized that he was falling.

He was being pulled into Grayson's lap tenderly, and he would have been made comfortable if not for the jacket being forced into his wound in a desperate attempt to stop him from bleeding out. He reached for Grayson's wrist to try to get him to stop, but his feeble movement only fueled his friend's resolve. Were those tears in his eyes? Drake wasn't sure, but he didn't think that he had ever seen Grayson cry before. Even when Armen had sacrificed himself to save them both, Grayson hadn't known him as well as Drake did.

"Come on, Drake," Grayson murmured to him now as though speaking any louder would hurt him more. "Stay with me, buddy."

Strangely, his friend was acting as though Drake were dying. He tried to point that out to him, but as he opened his mouth to speak, no words came out. Instead, his breath hitched, and his chest tightened and hurt at the feeble attempt. Grayson sobbed audibly and pulled him closer.

"Don't try to talk," Grayson uttered. "Just… just…" He seemed to lose whatever he was going to say, and his eyes darkened as he took in the severity of Drake's wound. "The Empire will pay for this." That look in his eye, it scared Drake even more than the murderous rage he had just witnessed. Slowly, very slowly, Drake shook his head, trying without words to tell Grayson to not do whatever he was planning to do.

Drake didn't know if he was able to get through to him, but even Grayson couldn't hold that look of anger for long. Not with Drake. With Drake, he had always seemed calmer, more collected than a man driven by revenge would have been. Now he didn't seem so calm. It seemed that just like Drake, Grayson was struggling to breathe, but he wasn't the one lying in a pool of his own blood.

His surroundings turned dark: the sun, the trees, the sky. Everything but Grayson who was the closest and most precious thing to him. His injury didn't hurt so bad now, and his hand steadily raised. Drake could just barely reach Grayson's face, but he did. He didn't mean to smear blood across his cheek, but at least he was here. At least Drake wasn't alone. He tried for a smile, but why wasn't Grayson returning it? Why did he look so stricken?

"Stay with me, Drake," he repeated, but his voice was fading away. Drake's hand was falling... falling...

Drake tried to hold onto his last view of Grayson's face before that image swam away from him, too. Then everything dissolved into blackness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we are: short and sweet and murdery! Aren't I just the best? I think that I am :)
> 
> For anyone who's curious, the Grayson's kid being alive fic is over 5,000 words now, but I am really close to an ending. A nice long sweet treat for all of you because you all deserve it! Go team!
> 
> ~Lya200~


	13. Child's Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grayson couldn't leave to go with Drake on his quest. He has his son to think about, after all, but he will do everything he can to help because that's what friends are for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this days ago but was always too sleepy to posty posty anything! However, here I have landed 5,475 words of story content, so that is a nice prize, right? At least you know why this took so long for me to get out!
> 
> As promised, a happy Grayson's kid is alive fic. There is mild angst (more like there is action going around but like no one dies), that fun stuff. At least the baby is alive! That is what matters, and at some point I am writing something set in this universe where he is riding baby dragon around and being cute!
> 
> Just another thing to note, I took some creative liberties with time lapses. It is still four years since Drake and Grayson separated, and 2 since Grayson took the egg. The son is about 3 when Grayson and Drake reunite. After that, action slows down, so the son is now about 4-5 years old in spite of some canonical things going on. If I ever revisit this again, he would be 7 during The Magic Library events.
> 
> Let's Go On An Adventure

The world burned around him, but Grayson shifted his cloak over the lower part of his face and kept going. He held protectively in his arms the most precious thing that he had left, and on his back he carried his second prized possession. Despite the danger, he kept running away from the place that he used to call home, carrying his infant son away from harm. He blinked back tears as he thought of his wife, but it was too late to go back. He couldn't go back. He had to keep going before he lost his son, too.

Arrows whizzed past him, and another stuck into a tree just inches from his face. Grayson didn't know how to escape without endangering his son, and of course Andruin was now crying for his mother, but he had to keep going. Both of their lives depended on it.

He didn't look back. He couldn't look back. However, when he neared the river, Grayson knew that he was going to have to make a choice. If he jumped in, he may drown, and so would his son. If he didn't he'd either be shot or taken back to the Empire as a prisoner, and Andruin would be killed like Kathryn was.

He took a deep breath and turned around to face his assailant. Shifting Andruin's weight all into his left arm, he raised his sword, which was chipped from constant use and lack of care. It was not his normal sword, but it was the only one that he had after he watched all of his possessions burn.

Standing in front of Grayson was Luke, his old friend, a traitor. His purple hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat, and the man lowered his mask from where it covered his mouth.

"Give me the egg, Grayson, and I will let you and your son go." The offer was so tempting, and when he heard Andruin's whimper he nearly shrugged off his backpack to give to the assassin. Grayson's hand moved to the strap, but then he remembered the dangers. He had to keep it from the Empire no matter the cost.

_Whatever it takes._

"I can't do that, Luke. I will not let this egg fall into the wrong hands again." He knew what the Emperor planned to do with it, but Grayson wished that it wasn't up to him. He never thought that the fate of the world would rest in his hands again after he and Drake left Ironmyre. Both victories came at a cost, but at least the dragon's egg could one day mean something. As long as he was alive, the Empire would not get the egg.

The assassin notched another arrow, this one pointed at Grayson's neck, dangerously close to his son, and he shielded the blond child's head. "One more chance."

And just like that, a baby's cry sounded loudly between them; Grayson continued to cradle his son, though he noticed that Luke's bow quivered.

"You won't do it," Grayson called his bluff, watching his former friend. He could never forgive him for what he had done, but even though he no longer knew the man, he knew Luke wouldn't want the death of a child on his conscience.

And then the former commander turned to run, and the assassin did not follow.

* * *

Grayson stared at Drake with starstruck awe. It had been four years since they had last seen each other, and now evidently his former friend could use magic. If there hadn't been more pressing matters, Grayson would have considered asking for Drake's help in hatching the egg. After all, there was no coincidence that Drake could use magic now that there was one last dragon's egg left in the world.

However, Grayson couldn't be sure if he could trust him. He scrutinized the half-demon, unperturbed by his strange appearance. After everything he has seen, it hardly fazed him anymore. He was more disturbed that he  _wanted_ to trust him despite knowing what happened when he told people the wrong things. He learned that the hard way when he told Luke about the egg.

It seemed that it wasn't his decision to make. As he tried avoiding looking at that spot in the wall, the bricks opened up just a crack. Grayson hissed when he saw his son peeking around the edge. Did he not tell him to hide whenever Grayson wasn't there to keep him safe?

"Dad?," Andruin said fearfully, and he stared wide-eyed at Drake. Grayson's heart sank, and he knew that he couldn't keep this secret like he originally wanted to.

"Is that…" Drake stared at Grayson with pointed eyes, and his stare was too intense with the demon half of him surpassing the more human form. "Grayson, who is that?"

Grayson sighed, and he pulled Andruin close to him, a stance he often adopted in the two years that he had been on the run. "This is my son, Drake," he answered finally. The silence stood between them, and Grayson hoped that Drake would not ask any more questions. Grayson's time in the Empire had been a personal one. For the first time he had been in a place where he felt that he belonged, and then he lost everything barely two years later. He did not want to talk about his wife, not even to Drake.

Drake nodded slowly. "I… see," he answered, and there was some understanding in his eyes. He wouldn't ask Grayson for the truth, not unless if Grayson prompted him to. Grayson wouldn't bring it up unless he had no other choice.

He turned his son to face him. "I thought that I told you to stay inside," he admonished quietly. Next time Grayson may not be conversing with a friend, and he would take his son's location to the grave if he must. Andruin knew where Grayson kept the egg, and if it ever came down to it, the boy would take the egg and run while Grayson stayed behind and fought off enemy soldiers. However, that plan would not work if Andruin didn't do as he was told.

To his credit, his son looked a little ashamed. "I heard voices," he admitted, and he buried his face into Grayson's jacket. At that moment, the former commander was just glad that it was Drake of all people who had found him and not an assassin or mercenary. He feared the day that he would not come home, leaving his son alone. He couldn't do that, and now Grayson was just thankful to have one more ally.

"This is Drake," Grayson introduced, indicating the half-demon. "You remember Drake, don't you? From the stories I have told you?"

Of course Grayson had told him. He hadn't told his son everything, but whenever he tried to get Andruin to go to bed he would talk of his adventures before he came to the Empire. Someday he would tell him the complete truth, but not yet. He wouldn't tell Andruin everything until he was older and would understand that  _He_ was more than just a story told to keep him from misbehaving. The demon was real, and so was Drake and Armen, his former brothers-in-arms and the last links he had to his former world.

* * *

In the end, Grayson did tell Drake about the dragon's egg. He kept a careful eye on Andruin as he played with the slime outside, and he and his former friend stared into the distance, contemplating the egg and Armen.

"I would go with you, but…" Grayson couldn't go very far when he had his son to take care of. He wished that he had the freedom to join Drake on his quest to save Armen, but while Andruin was still a helpless child, he could not. He would have to remain here until his son was old enough to protect himself, and even then Grayson would worry about his well being if he was not there to protect him.

"It's all right, I understand." Grayson could see that Drake wanted to ask more about what had happened to Grayson during the four years they had been separated. There was so much that Grayson wanted to ask about too, like where he had learned magic from and what he had learned about the demon since they left Ironmyre.

Grayson could see the sun beginning to set and knew that Drake may have to leave soon (though he would offer his spare bed to him if Drake needed to stay the night). If he couldn't leave his home for more than just a supply run to the nearest village, he could at least offer his help in other things. He had more than enough money if Drake needed it, and judging from the state of his clothes, he probably did. Hell, he would even give Drake the sword in his basement if the hybrid asked for it, though admittedly he hadn't told Drake that he had gone back to Ironmyre for the remnants of the Fiery Sword.

"Do you need money? Weapons? Anything? If there's anything that you need, I can give it to you." Grayson folded his hands across the stone barrier overlooking the courtyard, listening to the birds' chirping and the joyful laughter of his child. "I want Armen back, too."

Drake laughed nervously. It was an empty laugh as there was no real humor in the situation, but Grayson knew that it was the hybrid's way of expressing his gratitude. "Thanks, man. I really appreciate it, and I know that Armen would too."

And yet Grayson still believed that he should have done more.

* * *

Drake came by often now. Every couple of weeks or so Grayson would hear some sort of whizzing noise, and he knew that it came from the teleportation circle that Drake had set up in the courtyard. Mostly he came bearing updates, but he had turned up no real leads by himself. Grayson would pore over any texts regarding demonic possession and would share his findings with Drake over dinner, and yet nothing they did brought them closer to saving Armen. If Grayson could, he would travel with Drake to find answers, but Andruin was more important than any quest. He was the sole provider in his son's life, and he couldn't leave him here alone.

Speaking of his son, Andruin had grown quite attached to his "Uncle Drake." Although he had been distrustful at first, he quickly grew to appreciate having someone else who wasn't his dad around. He eagerly asked Drake for his side of the stories Grayson had told him when he was a baby, and Drake would oblige (with some of the darker details omitted, obviously). And in this way, Grayson learned more about his friend, too, and he knew that he was right in trusting him. So far Drake had not stabbed him in the back yet, and Grayson didn't think that he was going to.

Then came the day when the mercenaries returned. All clothed in drab trench coats that helped them blend in with the earth, they swarmed his house. Grayson had all but shoved his son through the trapdoor that led to his map room, but not before Andruin got caught in the crossfire between Grayson and one of the mercenaries that wanted them dead.

To Andruin's credit, he wasn't crying. Perhaps he was just shocked. There was too much blood seeping from his side, but Grayson's rational side reminded him that this was treatable. They just needed to get out of here. He carried his young son to one of the tables and sat him down on top of that. There wasn't much that Grayson needed to grab, and he pulled out a backpack. It was a shame that he had left most of their food upstairs, though he had some of his magical berries and water bottles down here. Those along with his emergency cookie jar would have to do until he could get to a village to restock on supplies.

He also gathered his maps to the Magical Library from the table. It was ruefully incomplete, but if he could figure out where these maps led, he'd be one step closer to hatching the dragon's egg. However, all of this had to wait until Andruin was old enough to take care of himself. There was no way that Grayson was ever going to leave his one and only son alone for more than a few days.

Grayson remembered the mystical key that he had felt drawn to ever since he found it in the vaults beneath the Emerald City. He remembered the pair of golden rings in a small pouch that he attached to his belt so they would not be lost. He remembered all of his money, his primary lifeline for the Badlands. He gathered bandages and healing potions, but there was no time to treat Andruin here when there were mercenaries baying for their blood upstairs.

He took the sword reforged from the Fiery Sword from the wall, but this was equipped to his belt for easier access. Finally, he opened the secret hatch to where he had the dragon's egg hidden away. He cast the thing a look of disgust before he shoved it down into his backpack so he wouldn't have to look at it again.

Oh, there was one last thing to grab. He picked out some mystical looking stone and observed it under his eyes with a frown. He didn't know how the magic worked, but Drake told him that if he ever needed to get to his house to use the stone on the teleportation circle at the end of Grayson's secret passage. Although there was another teleportation circle in Grayson's courtyard, Grayson knew that it would be destroyed should he ever be forced to abandon this place. By abandoning it, it would mean burning everything to the ground and destroying all evidence that would lead the Empire to Drake.

He turned back to Andruin, who looked far too young to have any blood on him. At least the boy had the proper sense to continue pressing Grayson's scarf to his wound to staunch the blood flow. "All right, I need to do something, but you need to go on ahead through the passage. I'll be there soon, buddy, okay?"

Andruin nodded, or was he just shaking? Now tears were spreading to his eyes that were too reminiscent of his mothers. Grayson smiled grimly at him before he opened the door and ushered the boy through. Then he took his flint and steel and prepared to set everything alight with the same flames that consumed his home once before.

* * *

"Drake?" Grayson called out between coughs from the smoke inhalation. He looked around the mystical mountain, recognizing it from when he explored the Badlands a while back. It was different from how he remembered it, but he assumed that Drake had made his mark on the place. He set Andruin down against a stone pillar before he walked forth. The magic from the portal faded, and he tried to not feel too sick from the sudden transportation that brought him here upon throwing the stone into the runes.

He looked around, but there wasn't any sign that Drake was home. He could tell that someone with magic lived here; there were various sigils set up around the place as well as a few magical looking artifacts on display. He found Drake's room easily, though there were vines covering the entrance to another room with two smaller beds. Drake had talked before of preparing an extra room for Grayson and Andruin if they ever needed it, but Grayson had never taken him up on that offer. Aside from a few trips into the Black Forest, he never took Andruin outside of the Ironmyrean castle that he had found.

He turned back around so that he could take Andruin to the room he could only assume was theirs. He hadn't been able to pick up much healing supplies during their escape, but they could make do with what they had until Drake returned. The last time Drake had come by, he mentioned these catacombs past the border that were the ruins of Armada. He must be exploring those, and Grayson hoped that he would be safe despite traveling alone.

"You're very brave, buddy," Grayson told his son gently as he treated the wound. They were lucky. If the Empire had killed his son, he didn't know where he'd be. They had gotten too close this time, and for once Grayson envisioned killing the emperor himself whenever he got his chance. He had to look out for his family, for Andruin and Drake both. He wouldn't let them take someone from him again.

* * *

Grayson cleaned up around the mountain while waiting for Drake to return. He didn't touch anything that looked magical, but he cleared some vines and dealt with a small lizard infestation in the wall. He felt guilty for staying here without Drake's knowledge, but he had nowhere else to go. With a child with him, he couldn't keep moving. At least he didn't think Drake would mind too much, and when he returned Grayson would explain everything.

Currently Grayson was in the secret area that Drake had carved out to hide his diamond in. Being a skilled treasure hunter, it hadn't been too hard to find, though it did take him longer to find the room with the diamond inside. Grayson had known that Drake had it, but still, seeing it for himself left him awestruck. While he was here, it was Grayson's responsibility to look after the Sacred Diamond even if he didn't understand the wards put in place. As long as they were doing their glowing magical thing, He shouldn't be able to find this place.

Today, however, when Grayson went to check on the wards, they were strangely silent. The buzz of magic was gone, and the sparks were still. Everything was frozen and silent, and the hairs on the back of his neck raised. Slowly, very slowly, Grayson reached for his sword, which had been reforged from the only weapon that could kill Him.

_Boom!_

The ground quaked, and Grayson managed to catch himself on the wall before he lost his balance. Dust and rocks fell from the cavernous ceiling, temporarily blinding him. He lifted his arm to shield his eyes, but the air was still thick from the fallen rubble. Shining through the dust was the sun which shone through the hole in the mountain. Everything was blown to hell, all except for…

The Sacred Diamond.

Grayson wasted no time in drawing his sword, but it was so difficult to see through the clouds of dirt left from the explosion. He pushed forward until he was at the edge of the platform (or what was left of it). A silhouette was basking in the dusty air, and they were too close to the diamond for Grayson's liking.

"Stand back," he commanded, refusing to be cowed even when Armen turned in his direction. It had been five years now since Grayson last saw him in Ironmyre, but minus a few details like the deteriorating skin and the pale eyes, he didn't seem to have changed at all. But he knew that he was different, that this wasn't really his old friend. Armen was as good as dead unless Drake managed to find a way to save him on his own.

" **And what do you plan to do?"** the demon taunted, and he didn't even sound like the Armen Grayson remembered. He reached out towards the diamond encased in titanium, and he didn't so much as flinch as the magic that kept it in place would have shocked him. " **You can't stop me."**

Grayson raised the sword to be level with Armen's chest. He was the only thing standing between the demon taking the diamond. "This sword," Grayson revealed to the demon, "was reforged from the remnants of the Fiery Sword. It can kill you." He already knew that He didn't know the truth of his sword. Drake was the only one whom he had told, and that was long after they reunited.

Armen looked at him in what Grayson hoped was some fear. It was impossible to read the demon's emotions, if there were any. Then the demon scoffed with a shake of his head. " **No it cannot."** The worst part was that Grayson didn't know if the remnants of the Fiery Sword would be able to do anything to Him, but it was the only weapon that he possessed that could work on Him.

"Do you want to try it?" Grayson snarled, and he walked slowly, brandishing the purple sword at the demon. If he moved too quickly, the demon would only stop and kill him quicker. Right now, he needed to draw the demon's attention towards him and not the Sacred Diamond. Then, if he saw his opening, he had to take it.

The demon seemed to realize something, and it wasn't the danger of the situation. " **And if you do kill me…"** The demon stopped to leer at him. That smile was too close to the real Armen's smile, or what Grayson remembered it. " **You will kill Armen."**

"He would understand," Grayson grunted, but he faltered. He was sure that this would have been what Armen wanted given that he had sacrificed himself to save him and Drake years ago. It would have been what Grayson wanted if he was the one being possessed. However, could he really bring himself to kill one of his only friends?

The demon pried open the titanium which kept the diamond safe, and Grayson took another step forward with a snarl. Then the demon looked at him with a simpering, knowing smile. " **But will Drake?"** His advance on the demon stopped. The words cut through him like the sword he was holding. He knew what the answer was. No matter what happened, Drake wasn't going to give up on Armen. Grayson didn't think he'd forgive him for killing his only friend.

The demon took advantage of Grayson's hesitation and lunged at him. He knocked Grayson's sword away and quickly wrapped His hands around his throat.

" **You have been a thorn in my side for too long,"**  the demon spat as He choked him. Grayson's vision started to turn grey and starry, and he desperately tried to pry at the fingers preventing him from breathing. His efforts were in vain. " **And now you will die."**

Was this how Grayson was going to die? Not at the hands of the Empire like he always thought but being strangled by a demon wearing the face of his friend? His strength dwindled by the second, and he was unable to struggle any longer. His eyes began to shut involuntarily, but he couldn't… couldn't…

_Andruin, I'm sorry._

That was Grayson's lost cohesive thought before the ground shook again. The demon was forced to let go, and he was on the ground heaving and clutching at his bruised throat. Where there was black in his vision it was now startlingly too bright. So many colors danced before him, and every sound was loud, just not as loud as his breathing was to him.

A blurry figure was then beside him helping him stand up. It took Grayson too long to realize that Drake was telling him something. "-and you weren't there, so we came to look for you here instead. What happened?"

"He took the diamond," Grayson wheezed, and it hurt. Drake's face was becoming clearer. "I tried to stop Him, but He overpowered me. I tried…"

Drake looked troubled for a moment, and he glanced over at the torn titanium. The demon was long gone, and as Grayson looked at it as well, all he felt was disappointed in himself. He should have stopped this from happening. He let the diamond slip through his fingers, and now the demon possessing Armen had it. Then again, what could Grayson have done? He couldn't kill Armen.

Drake swallowed. "That doesn't matter right now. Are you hurt? Come on, let's get you outside. I found some health potions that might do you some good." The mage looped one of Grayson's arms around his neck, and he let him, albeit reluctantly.

"The sword," Grayson grunted as an afterthought. He couldn't leave it here, especially since the demon now knew of its existence.

Drake looked over in its direction, but he didn't move to take it. "I'll grab it afterwards, but you need to rest, Grayson. I'll have Mia look you over, and I'll come back for it, all right?"

But they couldn't leave the sword. The demon could come back… where did He go, anyway? Why did He leave when He could have killed them? Why wasn't Grayson dead? His throat hurt when he tried to talk, so he shook his head and pointed in the general direction of where the sword was. Couldn't Drake see that the sword was more important?

Drake's stubbornness was equal to Grayson's in that moment. "You first, man. Don't worry, He won't be back for it any time soon." He started dragging Grayson towards the exit, and eventually he had no choice but to comply even if he didn't want to leave the sword. "I used a banishing spell on Him before he had the chance to, you know…" Drake eyed Grayson's bruises with concern. "It won't last forever, but it was a powerful spell. By the time He's back, we'll be ready."

Grayson didn't understand magic. It died out when the dragons did, though it returned when he found the dragon's egg. He understood anything that pertained to that stupid egg, but nothing else about magic made any sense. If Drake said that it was a powerful spell, then he would trust him. However, he still did not feel safe about leaving the sword behind. If the demon got ahold of it, who knows what could happen.

He never thought that he would see the sun again, but it was shining freely into his face instead of being clouded with dust and smoke. He coughed more dust from his lungs, and it hurt so much to breathe. He doubted that the bruises around his throat would fade any time soon, and he felt self-conscious of them.

When he was laid to rest in Drake's bed — yes, his bed because Grayson's was too far off, Grayson indicated the secret door.  _Go back for the sword. I'll be fine._ Although Drake looked worried, he obliged. He disappeared through the passage, and a few minutes later he returned with the purple sword in his hand. He passed it to Grayson who laid it by his side, though he would have felt safe without it because Drake was here.

Then, holding the hand of an unfamiliar woman, Grayson's son ran into the room. "Dad!" Andruin exclaimed as he bounded over to Grayson's sickbed. "Did you feel the earthquake? I almost fell down, but Miss Mia caught me!"

Grayson supposed that was the name of the stranger, and he smiled at the woman gratefully. Then he noticed something about her, and his eyes widened. Gesturing towards his own ears, he croaked, "You're an elf?"

"She's a what?" Evidently Drake didn't know that much about his new traveling companion because he was looking at her like she had grown a second head. "Elves are real in this place?"

Mia's lips quirked. "Really, Drake, and after all that we have been through together?" She didn't look very offended. "I'm Mia, and you must be Drake's friend."

When she didn't offer his name, he supplied it for her. "Grayson. I guess he hasn't told you much about me." To be fair, Grayson preferred it that way. He had been trying to keep a low profile for two years now, and Drake's and Andruin's were the only faces that he saw regularly. If Drake told the wrong people who his friend was, there would be more trouble than was necessary.

Mia shook her head. She looked friendly enough. "No, he's been really tight-lipped about everything he's been doing. We split up after we finished exploring these really cool ruins we had found, then a few minutes later, he came back and said that you were in trouble. Then we came here, and by the way, Drake," Mia turned to look at Drake who was trying to melt into the wall, "your magic is  _really_ awesome."

Yeah, Grayson figured that seeing his house on fire would have sent Drake in a panic, but he didn't have any way to contact the mage. Later he would ask Drake what he had really been up to, but he didn't want to bring it up around Mia. He barely knew her, though if she was an elf, she was probably no friend to the Empire. Still, he didn't want to risk it.

* * *

Drake and Mia had met at an inn where Drake stayed at for the night. They chatted for a bit before Drake used magic to raise a sunken ship where Mia's artifact had been lost. After that, they decided to go to the ruins of a city Grayson had told Drake about ( _Armada_ , Grayson had to remind him). The ground had collapsed, trapping the pair underground for days. That was why it took Drake longer than usual to return home.

Drake had teleported to Grayson's house first to give him something he had found, but everything was up in smoke. He went back to Armada to find Mia because he knew Grayson would need help, and when he saw Andruin all by himself when the mountain started to shake, he ran as fast as he could to get to Grayson. He had saved him, and Grayson was grateful.

"What was so important that you had to give me when you left Armada?" Grayson asked finally. It was evening now, and Mia was tending to a fire outside and entertaining Andruin so they could talk.

Drake glanced outside before moving over to his backpack. "I don't know how much you had been able to save during the fire," he murmured into the folds of the backpack, which made him hard to hear, "but I found this. I thought it might interest you."

He stood up and unraveled a water-damaged piece of parchment. Age had gotten to it, but Grayson had seen many maps like that before. Immediately he recognized it, and he didn't have to pull out his incomplete map to know where it led.

"The Magic Library," he confirmed softly. He had been searching for it for three years now, though he had never been able to get very far with his young son in tow. "Are you going to go?"

Grayson would give Drake the maps if he said yes, though he didn't know if Drake would be able to read them. Grayson was the better tracker of the two and was better suited to hunting down the Magic Library, but he couldn't leave his son alone. The only option would be to take Andruin with him, and he wasn't comfortable with taking Andruin into the outside world on his own.

Drake was watching him closely. "No, I don't think I will." He smiled wryly and returned to the chair he had been sitting in to tell his story. "Not without you, anyway."

They would have to plan. It would be a long and dangerous path, but Grayson knew that he had to go. He would have to take Andruin with him into the heart of the Empire to find the Library, but with Drake by his side, they could do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the end I didn't know what I was doing, so I just rolled with it! I always knew that Grayson would be there for Herobrine's Diamond Heist and get caught in the crossfire because home burning down, and I worked around it. By the end it was less about the kid which makes me sad, but I'll do more with him!
> 
> And yes, I named him for the sword and left the sword unnamed because I am who I am and I am who I was and I am who I will always be.
> 
> You know, I don't know what next to post. Maybe I'll do something related to Armen (and throw Collin in there) as something a little different... I dunno! I don't have anything with substantial content written for it!
> 
> ~Lya200~


	14. The House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For many years the house has stood, surviving wars, surviving floods. Its reputation precedes it, but the real story has been forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! How is everyone holding up? With everything crazy going on right now, I thought that I might pop in with an update for you... It's about a house... Okay, I did not think this through! I just wanted some creative distant way to write about Collin as some little teaser because I am working on something else with Collin and Armen, and the subject I chose was a house. Oh well.
> 
> I have some easter eggs in here to odd theories that I have explained in my Reactions to the Haunted on Wattpad, but I will explain them after this. Yes, the Lya has her theories back, even if they are obsolete at this point.
> 
> Let's Go On An Adventure

The house was very old, and to any unsuspecting eye, it was a normal house. Maybe it was rundown, but it had stood for hundreds of years. Travelers sometimes went inside to look for supplies, but they never found anything. At least, they didn't unless they stayed the night. Sometimes they would wake in the middle of the night with the feeling someone was watching them. When they looked, however, no one was there. Apples dropped from the ceiling from no source. Footsteps sounds from the next room over, muffled only by the moth-torn carpeting. Some travelers, when they went inside, were never seen again.

However, these were just stories. The house might have been odd, but few really looked into the house and its odd happenings. It served its purpose, and most people forgot about the old house. It was, after all, just a house. Most people didn't even know where it came from, or why it was still standing after all of these years.

Here is the true story.

The house was once owned by a well-off man, his wife, and his two sons. To the unseeing eye, they would have appeared to have been happy. The father was the Captain of the Guard, and he made enough money to afford this house and luxuries for his wife and children. The children would get into mischief as all children did.

Though the neighbors did note that their eldest son was rather odd. Sometimes he would sneak off into the woods late at night only to return muttering to himself about nonsensical things. He would lash out at those who spoke to him, and soon their family was driven apart even to the unseeing eye. The way his parents regarded him, it was as though he no longer existed.

Strange happenings would occur around that house. Animals would disappear only to be found dead later. Eventually, it was no longer the animals that disappeared but the people too. No one dared to speak out against the sons of the Captain of the Guard, but there were mutterings about the odd boy in the house, and some were certain that even the parents knew that there was something wrong.

Then, one day, everything just stopped, and life went on. The people went on their way, chattering about everything but the family who once lived in that house. It was as though they had forgotten that the family had ever existed, which most of them had. The house, once grand and proud, began to fall into disrepair.

But the house still stood.

Not everyone had forgotten about the inhabitants of the house. The village blacksmith was commissioned to do repairs inside of the house, and for a short period of time, the people's attentions were drawn back to the house. Come to think of it, it had been a long time since they had seen anyone come or go from that house. Some considered going inside to check on the family, but then they decided that they were fine and the blacksmith could handle things on his own.

Of course, the blacksmith was never seen again, but life went on as he was forgotten, too.

There was something going on in that house. Between demon deals and premature death, the house had seen its fair share of haunts. As the years passed and the rest of the village passed from memory, it still stood, an eternal testament to the strange happenings in that house. People could come and go, but when they went inside, they would find it empty.

And still…

And still someone might emerge. For the first time in what felt like years, so many years, a boy emerged from the house and ran into the library looking for books on demons. He got what he wanted, along with many strange looks. People no longer remembered the Captain of the Guard or his family. Now it was a boy and his strange tall friend who mostly stayed inside unless he was acting like the young teen's bodyguard. When he did, he spoke little to everyone else.

How could a house have changed such a loving family? Whatever happened to them? If someone had stumbled inside that house one night as the moon disappeared behind the clouds and the air was unnaturally still, they would have found the bodies in the bedroom and the blood on the walls. They would have found a traumatized teen sitting in a puddle of blood clutching a note to his chest. They would have seen the demon-possessed brother preparing his next strike. They would have seen an odd flash of light before a creature,  _a being of some kind,_ entered the house like it was his own. Of course, everyone forgot to question anything about the house and its inhabitants. It was just a house.

Days after these events, the figure woke in the middle of the night. He had tossed and turned under the covers for a while, but he couldn't sleep. Eventually, he stumbled into the kitchen where it was dark and it was just him and his friend. Bloodless. Unafraid. Happy.

"Hey Armen? Are you awake?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's see, theories I tackled here. The working title for this, before I completely made it about the house, was Looped, and it was going to delve into timeloops that allowed for Drake and Armen to be trapped in the house for a long time. As the people forget about Armen's family, it's because more people come and go over time. The house remains virtually unchanged until it falls apart, and yet on the inside, the three nights of the haunting are repeated over and over again in the dream world.
> 
> Grayson is the repairman and the blacksmith as I have combined these two roles. Still don't know why Herobrine has it out for him!
> 
> Surprisingly, I made no reference to the Sacred Diamonds. I was going to dedicate a few paragraphs to them, but they couldn't fit in where I wanted them too.
> 
> For my next one-shot, I have a bunch of ideas. Also, it is entirely unfair when you ask someone who doesn't know this fandom to give you romance plots, and one of them includes burning desserts (sure innocent enough til Lya adds context) and the other is freaking falling into lava! I have quite a few that I am working on, so stay tuned! I'll try to get them out as quick as I can!
> 
> ~Lya200~


	15. Assassin's Creed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke took the job thinking that it would be easy. Of course, since when was hunting Grayson easy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, in all of my planning processes and all of the various prompts I am working on, this wasn't even in the works yesterday. I just asked my trusty Discord bot to pick a character, and from there I would pick out a prompt. I listed Luke's name at the end, but I didn't think the bot would pick him. Then I landed nearly 2,000 words of content. This isn't my favorite, but it works. I tried to do a more serious approach, but you can tell that it got more light-hearted as time went on, and I'm sure that the second half is like a crack fic without the goods to supply it.
> 
> Let's Go On An Adventure

They had once been friends - best friends, in fact. Luke still remembered that day four years ago when the blond man arrived in the Empire and started to rise through the ranks. Although jealous at first, Luke had grown close to him. He knew that Grayson considered him family, and he had trusted him with one of his darkest secrets. For an entire month, Luke lived with the terror that Emperor Ferox would discover the egg and have Luke killed for being Grayson's accomplice. Every night would pass with the imperial guards swarming the Emerald City looking for the thief.

Luke did the only thing any sensible man would do: twisting his hat in his hands, he told the emperor what he knew. As a reward, he was given a small fortune almost as big as his former friend's. At first, he regretted what he had done. A few days later, there was a pair of bodies swinging in the square before they were dumped into a pit with a dozen other bodies to be mass buried. Luke had been among the group of guards who chased after the thief, and he ignored their previous friendship out of a sense of duty to himself, not just the Empire. If he could catch him, he'd get paid even more.

However, Grayson had escaped, and the dragon's egg disappeared. Luke knew his old friend, and he knew where he would go to hide. After a month, he accepted the Emperor's mission to hunt down his former friend. He traveled deep into the Badlands, and now it was a matter of finding the man. All the soldiers lost track of the man the further south he went, and while Luke knew that he would be staying close to some ruins, he did not know where to look. It had been a long time since Luke had stayed in the Badlands, and he kept traveling in circles around the same beaten bridges and dying trees. Meanwhile his quarry kept getting farther and farther away from him. It was as though he had vanished off of the face of the earth.

Luke didn't know what he was going to do when he finally found his old friend even after he found him at the river. Two years had passed since they had last seen each other, and the man felt so different to him now. From behind the tree as Luke notched the arrow, he could see the wave of sadness pass over the blond's face over something his strange new companion had said. Luke had a funny feeling he knew what the question had been about, and it would have been a kindness to kill Grayson then and there so that he wouldn't have to recount the painful past.

However, Luke had a job to do. Between the two, he knew which one was the bigger threat, but he couldn't kill Grayson - not yet, at least. First he needed to find out where he had stashed the dragon's egg. They had found the man's house a while back, but they were unable to find where he kept the egg. Either Grayson had it with him, or it was better hidden than even Luke had thought. Only the former commander of the armies would have the answer.

Luke felt nothing as he released the arrow. He felt nothing at the cry of pain coming from  _both_ men - physical for Grayson's friend, emotional agony from Grayson himself. Luke dropped the sword and unsheathed his sword easily. It was a very light sword, perfect for the art of being an assassin. He charged after his former friend, and he  _did_ feel something when he saw the unfathomable contempt shining in Grayson's eyes. Luke realized his mistake in injuring Grayson's friend, and he knew that he wouldn't be shown any mercy if he lost the battle. If he was going to come home to the Empire at all, he  _had_ to defeat the man here at the river. Luke doubted that he could. Grayson could always beat him in a sword fight.

" _You need to fix your stance. You can't kill a man fighting like that."_

The light-hearted affection was gone from the other's eyes, replaced by sheer hatred and disgust. Grayson was snarling at him like a rabid dog, and every swing of the sword was poised to kill. What had started as Luke on the offensive was now him on the defensive as he blocked every swing of the sword and tried not to die. He was saved by a powerful burst of magic that sent him flying away, but Luke was sure that the intent was for the mage to save his friend.

Now, sitting battered and bruised on the forest floor, Luke needed to come up with a new plan, a clever one. He had used a poisoned arrow on the hybrid giant, but it wouldn't distract Grayson for long. No, his quarry had always been a man of action. Luke knew that he was looking for something, and it probably had something to do with the dragon's egg, wherever it may be.

The best option now would be to find the pair. That part wasn't too hard because there was a trail of broken branches and traces of blood leading up to an abandoned old house nearby. Shielding his face from the rain with his hand, he peered through a dusty, cracked window at the pair who were sitting on either side of the fire. The one he had injured was chewing some food nervously. Grayson had that look again, that pained desperate look that he had when Drake had been answered, the same look he had when his family had been killed.

" _How could you, Luke? I trusted you."_

No matter. The events of the past could not be undone. Luke ignored that twinge of hurt from the memory and stepped away from the house. He had no desire to pick a fight with the mage again, so he would wait for Grayson to be by himself before he made his next move, which would be…. What? Luke couldn't best him in a sword fight; he never could even while they were friends and Grayson took it easy on him. Even if he tried sneaking up on him, somehow Grayson with his super-sonic powers of observation would wake up and have a sword pointed at his chest in a flash. Trying to take him when he had a mage at his beck and call was asking for death.

What was an assassin to do when his quarry was impossible to deal with? Luke knew Grayson too well, or he thought he knew him, anyway. Even if Grayson had changed from grief, he was still a military man through and through. He would always be several steps ahead of the Empire, nevermind an assassin.

Luke ducked inside of some ruins nearby with a badly damaged anvil and some ancient, rusted tools that would serve him no good. It was a roof over his head for the storm. Luke curled up on the stony floor with his arm as his pillow, but it was so hard to fall asleep with the pitter patter of rain and the crackle of thunder. Something felt off, like a quake in the air in the middle of the night that seized Luke's breathing for a few moments, but he had little dealings with the supernatural and didn't know what had happened in the house close by.

 _Find Grayson. Kill him. Take the egg._ It was such a daunting task, come to think of it. Maybe Luke was in over his head. He already knew what Grayson would have said to him before in a situation like this if he hadn't been the prey they were hunting.

" _Always choose your battles wisely, Luke. Otherwise, people that you know or even you can get killed."_

He followed Grayson at least for a week, waiting for the perfect chance to strike. When Luke prepared his attack, however, he could see the blond tense up. He would dodge the perfectly aimed arrow. He would freeze sometimes and turn his head slightly towards the side. Even when Luke was watching him, he was for sure that Grayson was the one watching  _him._

That settled it. Luke should have taken a job as a grocer or a baker instead because this was nearly the most impossible job he had ever been faced with. He would be better off poisoning a batch of cookies and leaving it for Grayson to find, but with his luck, the blond would sense the trap and find some way to turn it around on his assailant.

Luke  _knew_ what he should have done, and of course it was too late to try it now when Grayson had the supplies he needed (and yes, Luke had followed him for many leagues to the Wall and  _still_ didn't find the opportune moment to strike). He should have taken Grayson's precious friend and demanded a trade for him: Grayson's friend for the egg. Then again, Grayson would have found a way to kill Luke while ensuring the survival of his next beloved.

He could waltz on over to Grayson with a nervous smile. " _Hello. Luke here. But I guess you already know me, sort of."_ He could pretend to be on Grayson's side and to have seen the error of his ways, but, no, Grayson wouldn't buy that, either. Even if Luke  _had_ been genuine, which he would not be anyway, he knew that Grayson blamed him for his family's deaths, probably more so than he would blame himself but less so than he would blame the Emperor.  _As he was right to do._

No, no second thoughts. Luke had done what he needed to do two years ago, what had felt like the right thing for him to do at the time when food was hard to find and he was desperate. Luke had convinced himself then that Grayson would have done the same to feed his family if Luke had been the one to take the egg. (He wouldn't. Grayson was always a better man than Luke).

Luke didn't even know why Grayson took the egg. When Grayson had told him, he said that it was imperative that the Empire not find out that it was him because whatever they planned to do with it was too terrible to speak of. The might of the dragon was enough to destroy entire countries, apparently. Personally, Luke saw no other use for the egg than to make a massive omelette if there was no way to hatch the damn thing.

Why had he taken this job again? Because now Grayson had found himself another traveling companion, and the last time Luke had picked a fight with an elf, he found himself thrown outside of the building and couldn't move for at least a week because of how sore he was. Great, so Luke would have to face his former best friend who used to command over entire armies, a mage the size of a small mountain, and now a freaking elf who was taller than he was?

That's it. Luke was done. He quit. He turned tail and started to walk home and just hoped that the Emperor wouldn't execute him, too, though that was probably a better fate than one he would get if he tried to face the three head-on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot! Done! I don't know what I was going for by the end, but it worked! My working ending was going to have Grayson kill the assassin for his family, then a twist of the sword for Drake, and leave it at that, but when I made the joke about the poisoned cookies, I realized that it wouldn't have fit.
> 
> I'm working on enough content for all of you who are stuck at home! I'm apparently considered an essential worker, but we are closing an hour early than normal (and we're trying to bump it down to a 10:00 close when we usually close at midnight). Expect more content because fanfiction can be your next quarantine best friend!
> 
> ~Lya200~


	16. Burning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fire has taken a lot from Grayson, and he keeps seeing it again and again in the flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dude like I've had 95% of this done for at least the past week, but I couldn't get through one freaking conversation! Like, I sat there and wrote it and rewrote it and tried to cut it at one point but it came back to haunt me... Like, come on! I FINALLY finished that conversation, and the rest was a breeze!
> 
> So, here's the yup yup stuff. It STARTED from the prompt of a burning pudding for an anniversary, and I was so tempted at first to leave it at the end of the first part, but it was only like 300 words long so I went on and added angst... more angst... It's 5:30 in the morning so I am just rambling when I want to sleep but yeah, stuff happens. It's me. What did you expect?
> 
> Let's Go On An Adventure

The acrid smell of smoke wafted through the air and into his nose, forcing his nostrils to curl at the stench. He coughed and used his hand to wave the smoke away, but his eyes stung and watered because there was so much smoke, so much of it…

"Grayson? What's going on in there?" her voice, so soft and lively, sounded behind him. Grayson turned, holding the collar of his shirt over his mouth so that he could breathe, and he looked at his wife sheepishly while smoke rose around them. Before he answered, he went to open the windows to let some of the smoke out of the room.

"I, um, burned the cookies." Grayson bowed his head with shame, and he tried to not feel guilty for the sake of his beloved treat now reduced to charred crisps sitting on a burning hot pan. He put out the fire that heated the wood-burning stove, and as the air cleared, he uncovered his mouth. His face was pink from the embarrassment and from smoke inhalation.

Kathryn looked at him patiently from the doorway, and she kept a hand over the baby bump that was starting to show. Grayson was one of the luckiest men alive to have such a wonderful wife and pretty soon a fine son or a beautiful daughter that he could raise here in the heart of the Empire. One year ago, Grayson wouldn't have thought that happiness would have been possible for him, and now it was within his grasp. He could just feel it…

"What do you mean that you burned the cookies?" she accused him warmly, and her eyes (light blue, clear, flawless perfection) were on the blackened rocks that were cooling down on the counter. "What cookies?"

Grayson dared not touch the tray of "cookies" lest he burn his own hand, but he wanted to rid the world of the offending objects because they were certainly  _not_ cookies and were not fit for human consumption. "Um, the cookies I decided to make for you for our anniversary?" Grayson defended, and he gave her his best doey-eyed pitiful smile that begged for forgiveness on its own.

The look seemed to work because she walked over to him and pecked his cheek. "Only you, Grayson," Kathryn said with a soft smile.

* * *

Smolders shot up from the flames of the campfire and remained alight for just a few seconds before disappearing into the night. Grayson was shivering under his cloak, but not from the cold, though the night was cool. In only a few split seconds, he knew that his life was changed forever. He kept the artifact hidden from sight, but he could feel its damning weight.

He had taken it, the Emerald City's most prized possession.

He warmed himself by the fire and did his best to compose himself. Emperor Ferox wouldn't suspect him, surely. Grayson was still the commander of the armies of the West, and any number of men or women could have taken the egg (that's what he told himself anyway).

 _Trust no one._ There were only two people Grayson planned on telling about the dragon's egg. Obviously, he couldn't keep this from his wife. She had a way of reading him that no one else could, and she would know that something was up the moment he stepped into the threshold of their home. He would also tell Luke, his best friend in this place. Grayson would trust him with his life, and, if Grayson were to die, it would mean that there was someone who could carry on protecting the dragon's egg so that the Empire didn't get its hands on it again.

The crackling fire cast shadows around his face, and he drew the cloak closer to him, willing himself to get some sleep.  _In the morning,_ Grayson thought.  _In the morning I will deal with this._

Grayson watched the friendly reds and oranges and yellows, and, as he slowly drifted off into a restless sleep, he was reminded of a dragon's breath.

* * *

The fires burned so hot on his home that surely everything was to be destroyed. Grayson watched helplessly from afar, but the smoke was so thick that he could not tell if his family was in there. Oh god, he hoped that they weren't. A cold dread so opposite of the vengeful flames filled his heart, and he almost ran to the burning ruins in desperation to find them. What kind of father couldn't protect his son? What kind of husband couldn't protect his wife? What kind of man couldn't protect his family?

He was basically carrying nothing, just his money and the dragon's egg, which was proving to be more trouble than what it was worth. Grayson knew that it was worth far more than most people could even begin to imagine, but even so, he was starting to wish that he hadn't taken it, that he had left things alone. He had a life here, in the Empire. It wasn't like he would lose anything if the emperor were to use it like how he thought.

The roar of the fire was deafening to him, but the angered yells of those who were burning his home were even louder. Grayson's eyes watered before he really understood why, and he pushed back thoughts about the dragon's egg as he forced himself to look away from the fires consuming his home.

 _No, there's still time,_  Grayson told himself, and his heart clenched with desperation as he walked away from his home, from the life he had managed to make for himself in this brand new world.  _I can save them. I can find them. I have to._ However, the farther away he seemed to walk, the louder the flames seemed to get, and soon, the same fires would consume Grayson's heart and fuel him for years to come.

* * *

The flames danced cheerfully in front of him, seemingly unaware of the echoes overtaking his mind. They just kept screaming and screaming and screaming, and he was powerless to help. The fires would consume everything in its path, and deep down, he was ready to let it take him too. He stared into the fire, unable to look away from the shadows of his past as they leapt from the flames and taunted him about everything he had lost.

"Grayson?" A voice sounded through the screams, the friendliest voice and the friendliest face he had seen in two years. But no, it was a lie, it had to be a lie because he couldn't trust anyone. The last person he had trusted had gotten his family killed. Now that Grayson had nothing more to lose, he didn't care if he put his trust into the wrong person, but he didn't reach out for Drake. He stared into the flames that were rising higher and higher as more wood was fed to it.

They kept screaming over and over again. It was deafening, so why couldn't Drake hear it? As lost as he was in his memories and his guilt, it registered to Grayson that he wasn't alone here, that he had a friend beside him. However, having a friend with him wouldn't mean anything if he ended up dying because of him. Grayson ignored the pleas for him to look at Drake, to turn away from the flames and from his past. The flames raged on, and the memories would bother him anyway.

* * *

Grayson coughed out his lungs through the smell of dust and smoke. The white-hot sting of snow clawed at his face, but years of living in an arctic wasteland made him almost immune to its effects. He could grit his teeth and bear the cold if he must, but it was for his friends that he was most concerned for.

"Drake? Mia?" Grayson called out their names desperately, the burning cold already reaching his heart. He scrambled to free himself from the burning wreckage of the airship, and once he was topside, all he could see on the horizon was snow. The area was alight by all of the flickering orange flames, which stood out against the pale whites, blues, and greys of the barren landscape.

"Grayson! Over here!" That was Mia's voice, and he was able to see a figure waving wildly through the snow. It felt like it took much longer than it should to have reached her, but Grayson was panicking on the inside and trying to find Drake.  _Where are you, man?_

There was no sign of their taller friend, and Grayson spun his head in circles looking for some daned miracle. "Where's Drake?" he yelled over the deafening roar of the snow. Mia was worse for the wear herself with singed clothing and some blood from the crash, but Grayson could tend to her later. He  _needed_ to find Drake.

"I think…" the elf was looking over at a large piece of smoldering wreckage in shocked horror. "I think he saved us…" There had been… something that protected Grayson during the crash. While his body hurt like hell, he was alive and relatively unharmed. A feeling of uneasiness overcame him, and something drew him over to the mangled mess of burning wood despite Mia's calls for him to stand back.

Grayson's eyes watered from the song of ice and fire that danced in front of his face. There! He could see him! Grayson's mind screamed at him to get away from the burning wreckage, and those screams were backed up by more screams: the screams of townspeople, enemy soldiers, and his family, all of those he could still remember from that fateful night. His eardrums pounded with his heart, and Grayson made to cover his ears before he remembered what he was here for.

With the strength of ten men, he managed to pull the large piece of wood that was pinning Drake down so that he could free his friend. Flames licked at his fingers, but he did not find it within himself to care as he gathered Drake into his arms and pulled him from the burning flames to safety.

* * *

Mia had bandaged his hands and lower arms, but Grayson had insisted that she tend to Drake first. He hadn't woken up since the crash, and Grayson refused to leave his side once. All of his potions had been destroyed in the crash, and he tried to use what was left of their supplies to fashion a shelter against the blizzard. There was nothing to build a fire with. To be honest, Grayson wasn't sure he wanted to.

He lifted his hand from Drake's forehead with a little frown. He was burning up with a fever from the loss of mana when he protected them from the explosion, and Grayson didn't know if he would ever wake up. He wasn't going to cry. He refused to cry, but those salty tears still tried to fill his eyes and he had to blink them away before Mia saw. He knew that she probably did see, but she didn't comment on them.

"Is he going to be alright?" Mia asked him softly from her perch closeby. She had turned most of their blankets into bandages, but Grayson had forced her to keep one for himself. He wasn't that cold, and he didn't want to make Drake overheat.

He reached down again towards Drake's face, brushing aside a lock of messy hair. His hand lingered on his forehead despite the burning heat resonating from the skin. Grayson's eyes watered once again, and this time, a few slipped past his defenses and rolled down his cheeks landing onto Drake's overheating ones.

"He has to be," Grayson answered, both for himself and for Mia. No, Drake had to wake up. Grayson didn't know what he would do if he didn't.  _Come on, Drake. Don't do this to me. I can't lose you, too._

It seemed as though his luck was finally turning around. Drake stirred under his touch, and Grayson nearly choked when he exhaled in relief.

* * *

"Does it… hurt?" Grayson eyed the small flame flickering in Drake's hands distrustfully. The only thing that fire brought was destruction, and after seeing Drake use the fire magic on the mercenaries that attacked them earlier, he was reminded of that fact. Through the winter Grayson had built fires, and every night was spent remembering the destruction, the death… He shook his head, forcing himself to pay attention to Drake.

Drake shook his head and let the little fire in his hand die. "No, it doesn't hurt unless I lose control of it."

Grayson frowned to himself, but with the fire gone, he was able to relax. "And have you?" he asked his friend, trying not to imagine him burning alive because he had been using too much fire magic.

"Have I what?" Drake was giving him a strange look. Sometimes Grayson wondered if Drake was able to guess anything about his past, though he never asked about Grayson's family unless prompted to.

"Lost control." Grayson had always harbored some concern over Drake's well being, and it had only grown after they started traveling together again. After they had been forced to separate, Grayson had to stop himself from going after his friends in case he brought danger with them. In this case, Drake had been the one to seek him out first. Deep down, Grayson felt better knowing that he didn't have to travel alone.

Drake's answer was reluctantly given, but he pushed through whatever was holding him back. "Only a few times. After Armen…" Grayson understood without Drake needing to finish, and his eyes turned sad as he nodded. His eyes lingered to the faint scars showing from under Drake's clothes, the marks of uncontrollable flames that Grayson had only barely saved him from. Burning. Burning. Death. He clenched his fists to ground himself here with Drake.

It hadn't been the first time that Grayson had lost someone to the flames. He still remembered Armen's fall into the lava as clear as day, and he remembered how close he had gotten to losing Drake. He could lose him again if he wasn't careful, but Grayson knew that he would be careful. Drake wouldn't do anything stupid with the magic he had been given. He just had to trust him, to trust  _in_ him.

"Just be careful, all right?" Grayson urged gently, like a father would a child, a friend to his friend, a man to the one he loved.

Drake smiled faintly at him. "I promise."

* * *

Everything was ablaze. Grayson's eyes watered from the heat, and he coughed and waved his hand before his face to direct the smoke away from his eyes, nose, and mouth. Someone (Drake) was pulling him back, and once the smoke cleared, the innocent baby dragon was looking up at them like he and Drake were its parents.

"Aw, look at it!" Mia gushed, and she was running forward to join them in marveling at the dragon.  _The last of the dragons._

Grayson could still smell the smoke. Tiny fires were still burning around them, but right now he was smiling. He had his friends. He had his dragon. He gave Drake's hand a small squeeze as the dragon hiccuped and shot a tiny spurt of fire from its mouth that quickly incinerated a helpless twig.

They were okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally it was gonna come full circle with Drake trying to bake cookies to cheer Grayson up, but at the last minute I just wanted a cute family moment instead with a tiny baby dragon because that's fire. Fire was heavily used in this, I know, but that's the point. I took the title from one of my drabble series on the Merlin side of my writing and utilized it where I could here. The conversation that I had trouble with was the Grayson and Drake one with Drake's fire magic... another originally for that was Drake injured himself and Grayson is treating the wound, but I couldn't get the words to work so I did The Magic Library loose AU (where like they are more injured from the crash but you know the thing still ends the same)...
> 
> See, I'm rambling. I just need to sleep!
> 
> ~Lya200~


End file.
